The Promise of Gracelynn Frost
by Pearlness4700
Summary: {Sequel to TSOKH} For as long as she can remember, it's just been Gracelynn Frost and her parents. But what happens when her family is shattered and she's the only one left to pick up the pieces? Meanwhile, all hope may not be lost for the Frost family. After all, they are Jack and Elsa. Full summary inside. Disclaimer; I (regrettably) don't own any Disney or DreamWorks characters.
1. Shatters And Darkness Remain

**For as long as she can remember, it's always been Gracelynn and her parents. So when they suggest she apply for Burgess Performing Arts Academy like they did, Grace is a little skeptical. But one tour of the prestigious school and its music program and Grace can't wait to leave. She is quickly accepted, and while that means she can't go on the cruise they had been planning on for a few weeks, she is going to be accepted into her dream school. But all that changes with one call. The ship sank. There were no survivors. And Grace is left alone. But she doesn't believe the police when they tell her that her parents are dead. How can they? Call it 'in denial,' but she can't shake the feeling that something is wrong, and that her parents are somewhere out there. For now, though, she is in no way ready for the school, so she decides to wait a year and settle in the big city of Corona, Burgess, with her aunt and uncle's family.**

**One year later, all Grace has done is try and forget about the hopeless belief she still unwillingly clings to by drowning herself in her music. It isn't working, so what better time for her to leave for BPAA? When she gets there, she meets new and old friends, tons of interesting people, and maybe a new crush... But when a stranger comes forth and claims to be able to help her, can she force herself to lay her futile attempts at moving on to rest? Or will she continue with her efforts in secret? The choice isn't very hard, but then there's the matter of trusting the stranger and all that he tells her...**

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

The story of Jack and Elsa Frost was nearly legend. How they were both innocents caught up in a culprit's plan, how they never deserved the fate they got, but they would argue with it. Sure, Jack had gotten kidnapped (hmm...maybe it _was _kind of a big deal...) but they had ended up together, in the end. And now they had a family to raise.

Their daughter, Gracelynn, or Grace, was fourteen when they brought her to Burgess Performing Arts Academy. To her surprise, she loved it, and couldn't wait to go. Unfortunately, that meant she couldn't go with her parents on the cruise she had been looking forward to for a while, but if it meant she could go to her new dream school, Jack and Elsa were okay with it.

Not even a month later, Grace was left standing alone in a nice, peaceful, but incredibly depressing place filled with flowers and two holes in the ground, wishing more than anything that she could turn back the clock and make them stay with her. Yes, Jack and Elsa were on the cruise ship that sank somewhere in the Indian Ocean, Grace couldn't even bring herself to remember.

Her Aunt Anna, whom she hadn't seen since last Christmas, would be taking her in with her husband and two young children. Grace had always been home schooled, and she didn't think she was ready to attend BPAA after all.

When she arrived at Anna and Kristoff's house, she was greeted by a slobbery white dog the size of a small pony, and their two children. The first thing she did was set her things down in her new and unfamiliar room and cry.

The next; lock her door, set the collage of pictures of her and her parents on her night stand, and get out her violin to practice.

And practice, and practice, and practice.

All while a small, glittering silver snowflake ring shone up at her.

_I promised, _she sobbed the first night as her final thought before she drifted off into a fitful sleep.

**~one year later~**

"Okay, you can do this, you can do this..." Gracelynn Frost told herself, staring at her cerulean blue eyes in the mirror.

Was it possible to have a staring contest with yourself? Yes? No? Maybe so? A quote that she had seen somewhere came to mind.

_'It is not sad if you argue with yourself. It is only when you argue with yourself and _lose _that it's sad.'_

Now that she thought about it, it had really been more of a quote thought up of for laughs, but if one thought about it, it did make sense.

She substituted some words to fit her own situation.

_It is not sad when you have a staring contest with yourself. It is only when you have a staring contest and you _lose _against yourself that it's sad.'_

Grace blinked.

Did that mean she won? Or that she had lost?

With her luck, she had probably lost.

She sighed, resting her hands on her hips.

"I can't do this," she announced to herself.

"Gracie!" two small voices chirped out from down the hall, as well as a deep throated bark.

"Hey!" she put on a bright and cheerful face immediately. Nobody could see her suffering. Nobody.

"Gracie, Gracie!" Jenny, the now seven-year-old and oldest of the three Bjorgman children, was the first to scramble into Grace's room. She had a mop of stringy blonde hair with a small scatter of freckles across her nose and teal eyes, just like her mother's. She wasn't very tall but she was as skinny as a twig.

Cliff was the younger brother. Where Jenny had a mop of blonde hair, he had fine strawberry blonde hair. He had brown eyes, like Uncle Kristoff, though. He was a little heavier built, but when Grace pictured him all grown up, he was very handsome.

The Bjorgman dog, Olaf, came bounding in after them. Olaf was a snowy white malamute with puffy fur and dark, dark eyes. He nearly reached Grace's waist and was practically a horse to the children.

"Hey kid," Grace smiled, resting her hand on Olaf's furry head. Jenny hadn't seen much of her Aunt Elsa and Uncle Jack, so she didn't quite understand what was going on. And Cliff, who was only four, had still been in diapers. Neither of them were quite old enough to fully grasp what Grace had to go through, but they loved her all the same. They were part of the reason Grace had become so strong.

Jenny ran and jumped onto her bed, giggling in an innocent way that only a seven-year-old could pull off. Olaf settled down by the foot of the bed, as he was too large to hop up onto it now. Cliff came over from the door and tugged on the end of Grace's long, baby blue cardigan sweater, and she bent down to pick him up.

With Cliff resting on her hip, Grace once again stared at herself in the mirror. She didn't _look _much older than fifteen, but she sure _felt _older. That was one downfall of having blue eyes. Emotions bleed through as easily as a water through a coffee filter.

Grace had her platinum white hair in its usual messy fishtail side braid, with the tip of it nearly reaching her waist. Her mother's hair had been platinum blonde, and her father's a deep shade of brown, so she never quite understood how she ended up with almost blindingly white hair, but then again, her mother's side came from a long line of brunettes.

Grace shook the thought from her mind. She had more important things to worry about then her hair genes.

"Gracie, we're gonna miss you," Jenny said sadly.

"I'm gonna miss you, too, but I have to go to school," Grace told her, feeling bad. As long as they were quiet, Grace normally let the two of them sit in and listen.

"Alright, Cliff, down you go," she said, gently dropping him on the bed after shoving some boxes off. "I hate packing."

Jenny laughed and Cliff pouted at having to be put down, but the four-year-old simply trailed over to plop down next to the panting dog. Beforehand, Grace had been fine with being an only child. For a while, she had understood why. But then, she started to let people in and smile more, including taking part in caring for Jenny and Cliff.

Then, she had wished that she had a younger sibling for a while.

Now, though, she was glad that she did not. What she was going through...she didn't want anyone else to go through that.

"Alright, Jenny, can you help me bring these downstairs?" Grace asked, handing the little blonde a small bag holding her bathroom supplies.

Jenny nodded, her blue eyes flashing.

"Go on, Cliff, I have to get these boxes," she turned to Cliff, who obediently trailed out behind his sister.

"Olaf, out," she commanded. Olaf huffed and laid his head between his paws, pointedly refusing. She sighed. That dog had a tendancy to stay where he laid down, and most of the time that place was her room. "Fine then."

In response, Olaf rolled over on his back, looking perfectly content and happy.

"Alright, now," Grace bent to pick up the remainder of the boxes, staring one more time at herself.

Her legs were still a little gangly, as she hadn't done so well the first month or so after...the accident, so she probably wasn't as filled out as she should be in her age. She wore white jeans and some tan ankle boots with a pointed toe. She wore a royal blue long sleeve shirt with the baby blue cardigan hanging off her sides. One lucky thing in her genes, she had gotten her father's vision, which meant she didn't need glasses or contacts, like her mother.

Her mother hadn't been blind or depended on glasses to see, but they did help her. Luckily, Grace didn't need them at all. But even still, Grace had her mother's glasses tucked into her back pack. Every now and then, she would slip them on. It was probably bad for her vision, but she couldn't help it. They just reminded her of _them._

She squared her shoulders, trying to look brave.

She just looked ridiculous.

She sighed once more.

"Stronger (What Doesn't Kill You), Kelly Clarkson," Grace said to herself.

When faced with grief, most people just fall into a state of depression. While Grace did do that for a while, she shed it like an old pair of jeans. She had to be strong. Besides, it's not like she could _forget. _The only reason she tried to be depressed was because of... Well, that wasn't important.

She glanced down at the silver ring adorning her one finger.

_'Be strong' _it seemed to say. _'Don't give up.'_

So depression hadn't worked.

For maybe about three days, she tried anger, but the first time she had thrown something it hadn't felt right, or even the in the slightest bit satisfying, so she disappeared in her music.

That had seemed to be the only thing that had worked.

For most, grief led to depression, or even insanity. In Grace's mind, she had a serious case of MD: Music Disorder.

Lyrics stuck to her mind like flies to fly paper, and she could and always would match a song to any person, scene, moment, or situation.

Right now, Stronger made her feel better.

So she went with that.

"I _can _do this," she said with phony bravado.

_But will you? _her reflection asked.

_I will do it, _she responded.

_We will just have to wait and see._

She wanted to argue further, but she couldn't find anything to say. Then, in a 'no duh' moment, she realized that she had just been arguing with herself.

Alright, she officially considered herself 'sad'.

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><p>"I'm going to miss you all so much," Grace said honestly after she finally loaded everything (albeit almost tripping on Olaf multiple times going down the stairs. Granted, said dog didn't help much by weaving in and between her legs but whatever).<p>

"We love you, Gracie," Jenny said sadly, looking up at her.

"I know," Grace bent down and smiled, taking her younger cousin, who might as well have been her own sister, into a hug.

"Bye," Jenny sniffed and reluctantly released Grace's hand that Grace hadn't even noticed she had grabbed.

"Bye, Cliff," Grace picked up the young child and hugged him closely before setting him back down next to his sister. He looked incredibly sad with that stuffed reindeer he had deemed 'Sven' after being shown a picture of his father's first dog.

Olaf voiced his own thoughts on her leaving and thumped his tail once, managing to look absolutely pitiful.

"Grace, come on. We're going to be late," her Aunt Anna smiled sadly. Her own strawberry blonde hair was piled in a bun and her freckles had faded slightly since a year ago. Her eyes weren't quite as bright as Grace remembered them being, but she knew that her mother and aunt had always been close.

Grace pressed her lips together and pushed the thoughts away by crushing herself into her Uncle Kristoff's tight embrace.

"Go have fun," Kristoff whispered in her ear.

Grace nodded. She deliberately didn't promise, though. Not only could she not promise that, but she strongly believed that promises were special and should only be made when the maker had absolute intentions on fulfilling it. And then they should always be kept. Always.

Grace cringed at that thought and forced the burning sensation in her eyes down. She only hoped her cheeks weren't as red as she felt they were.

She squatted down to rub Olaf's ears, while the slobbery white Malamute covered half her face in a final goodbye layer.

Anna smiled as she wiped the drool off with the back of her hand and pulled the girl in for a sideways hug. It wasn't a 'goodbye until Christmas break' hug, it was just a reassuring hug. Grace only had her permit, so she couldn't drive to BPAA herself.

Grace was just about to stuff her ear buds in when she nearly forgot.

And how in the world could she forget?

The Bjorgman's youngest child had been born only a few months after the accident, so Grace didn't feel bad about having to rest a burden down on the tiny baby's shoulder's just yet. Originally, the baby's name was going to be 'Girda', after a family friend or someone. After the accident, she overheard Anna and Kristoff replanning to name her after Grace's mother. Grace wasn't quite sure how she felt about that, so she was mostly relieved when the baby's name ended up giving her no worries. She supposed they just changed their minds, or forgot, but either way she didn't feel too offended.

Grace bent down to where the nine-moth-old lay sleeping, wrapped up in a soft pink blanket.

She butterfly-kissed her forehead, but there was no need. She was out like a light and would probably stay that way until Anna came back.

"Bye, Katie," Grace whispered.

* * *

><p>If he thought that he had known dark before, he was wrong.<p>

This, _this _was dark. Cold, lonely, and desolately dark.

Very desolate. Very, very lonely. And very, very, _very _cold.

He tried to blink his eyes and see if they could adjust, but the only thing that could be seen were the spots behind his eyelids, whether they were closed or not. He wondered for a moment if this was a dream. How could one place be so dark? He slowly brought his hand to pinch his wrist, but he didn't even make it that far.

He would have cried out in pain if his voice wasn't so suddenly hoarse and dry.

He grimaced in pain after a few minutes had passed and he tried to move his one arm again.

_Ow. Probably broken. How in the world did that happen? _he thought.

He realized that he was laying down, so, gingerly protecting his arm, he brought himself up in a sitting positing, propping himself up on the wall that he had moved back into.

Other than his arm, he seemed physically fine. Mentally, a million little evil elves kept taking sledgehammers and not waiting their turns to pound against his skull.

He didn't know where he was, and he didn't quite remember how he had gotten there (not that he could see where exactly 'there' was), but he did know that wherever he was and whatever had happened, he was probably royally screwed.

So quiet he almost missed it, a small and soft fluttery breath caught his attention.

Someone else was in the dark with him...

He froze, listening for something else.

He counted to one hundred and forty-seven before he heard another noise, something so soft he couldn't even identify it.

"H-hello?" he called out, forcing his voice to work. It cracked, but it still worked.

Ignoring the sharp pain in his arm, he slowly made his way where he thought the noise had come from.

"Hello?" he could only whisper this time.

_Nice going. That's always how they die in the horror movies._

He felt like thinking something back sarcastic, but that would mean that he was losing it and that he would admit that this was real and very, truly frightening.

But this wasn't a horror movie. This was worse because it was real and it was happening and he couldn't remember anything and his head just _hurt _and-

He fingers grazed over something scratchy, and worn.

He froze once again.

Another fluttery breath came out, a little louder, right in front of him.

_Oh my god. _

Suddenly, he remembered everything, and he forgot the pain in his arm, and the pain in his head, and the pain in his mind. He even forgot that his throat was so hoarse he couldn't even talk.

His didn't whisper this time, and his voice didn't crack, either.

"Elsa..."

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><p><strong>Ta-da! Did I just kill all of you TSOKH readers? :D<strong>

**Lol, I just solve my writer's block by adding to my list of stories to write...I really need to do something about this.**

**Anyways, hello everyone, welcome to The Promise of Gracelynn Frost (which will from now on be referred to as TPOGF starting...now)! I am Pearlness4700 and I will be narrating this story for us all! In case you do not already know, this is the sequel to The Secret of Katrian Hope (TSOKH), and if you have not read that then I would highly suggest it to you. Some things just will not make sense without having previous knowledge. About this title chapter when I come out with the second chapter, yes, I mentioned Stronger by Kelly Clarkson, but I only mentioned it. Since Grace has MD (a totally original figment of Grace's imagination, _not_ a real mental diagnosis) there will be a lot of song mention-ings...sure that's a word... Only if a song gets its lyrics in the chapter will the chapter be titled after it.  
><strong>

**Okay, so...updating schedules. I have been terrible and did not update for like, almost a month, so, hopefully that will not happen again. But, please know that I am in school now and very, very busy so Fanfiction cannot be my main priority. Thanks for understanding and I will hopefully update often enough to satisfy you all.**

**Also, like TSOKH, this story will kind of start out to be really depressing. I tried to lift the mood with Jenny, Cliff, and Olaf, so hopefully that made some difference.**

**Alright, it's officially started! Oh my gosh, breathe. Okay...see you all next time!**

**Please tell me what you think!**

**~Pearlness4700**


	2. Bulletproof

**Hello again! So, someone mentioned the fact that Jack had been sleeping for a year or if it was a flashback...haha, so the time difference may or may not have slipped my mind just the tiniest bit, so just keep reading and we shall both find out, I guess.**

**Anywho, let us begin!**

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><p>Grace wished she could say that she wasn't looking forward to going to Burgess Performing Arts Academy, but that would be lying anyways. She'd been wanting to go since that first tour with her parents. But, having been home schooled her entire life, she had decided that it was too short of a span. And when her music began to fail as a distraction, what better time to take up some studies?<p>

When Grace had reapplied, she had been once again accepted. As much as she loved Anna's family, well, she didn't love them enough to stay. Which was really a terrible way to put it, but, more or less, it was the truth.

However, Grace was only looking forward to school. Finding out that she only had two weeks to prepare a song performance for her orchestra class wasn't a problem. Neither was the fact that she would have mountains of homework nearly every night. But she nearly had a heart attack when she discovered that she'd be having a roommate.

Call her weird, antisocial, whatever. But she figured that being home schooled and losing your parents was more than a decent excuse for all of the words listed.

Anna knew that Grace didn't want any teary goodbyes, and she wasn't willing to give one. So she stayed silent for the most part while Grace lugged her suitcases and violin out of the trunk. Besides, she could save the goodbyes for when Grace came to get the final trip of boxes. These were only the suitcases, after all.

"Hey, Grace," Anna said right before Grace rolled the suitcases along to check in.

Grace looked back, feeling ready to cry. She had been with her Aunt Anna for a year now, and though she was leaving, she was still going to miss her like crazy. Sure, it was pretty much inevitable that Anna and Kristoff would become her legal guardians, but she was still eternally grateful to them.

Anna gave her a smile smile. "Have fun, kid."

Grace nodded once.

Anna did worry about her, but she also knew that Grace wanted to be on her own to deal with things for a bit, so she tried not to be too offended when Grace wanted to attend BPAA.

Grace quickly regathered her things and headed to where a long line was starting to form.

In certain times, when you are dreading something to happen, time passes in seconds. When one is expectant and anxious, time passes by the hours. For Grace, she was too busy thinking to notice time.

It could have been hours (though it was probably minutes), but either way, Grace made it to the front sooner than she'd like.

"Name, please." came the curt introduction from a lady at the table.

"Gracelynn Frost."

The lady started to look for her papers, but then she stopped.

"I'm sorry, did you say 'Gracelynn Frost'?" she asked, blinking twice.

"Um...yes?"

Grace didn't normally think of things this way, but the only way to describe the lady's reaction was lighting up like a Christmas tree plugged in for the first time in a dark living room.

"Oh my goodness, are you Jack and Elsa's daughter?"

With her parents genes, she couldn't really pale, but she felt like she did at the simple mentioning of their names.

"Uh huh," she choked out.

"Oh, how wonderful! And here," she handed Grace her folder, decorated with a large black treble clef. "A music major as well? I can't wait. Do you sing? Are you going to be in choir? I bet you have your mother's voice!"

_Did this lady even know what had happened? _Grace wondered, but she politely took the folder and replied, "No, I'm in orchestra. And yes, so I've been told."

"Shame. I would have loved to have you in my class. I teach the choir. Oh, how silly of me! I haven't even introduced myself yet! I'm Ms. Tooth. I heard about the...accident," her smile faltered when she said 'accident,' which normally would have made Grace frustrated but for some reason, didn't. Maybe it was just the way she was so cheerful, or maybe it was the way she said 'accident' and not 'death', like she subconsciously agreed with Grace's ridiculous belief. "I hope I'll be seeing you around the music department?"

Ms. Tooth was an older lady, maybe late sixties, but her hair was as dark brown as ever, cut just below her chin. Her face was older and wise, but charming and young at heart. She was definitely petite. Her eyes were the most interesting color that she couldn't quite put a name to, and she wore a faded pair of feathered dangle earrings.

"Yeah, sure," Grace gave her best effort at a smile, which she was pretty sure looked more like a grimace. A for effort, right?

"Alright. Feel free to stop by whenever, sweetheart, okay?"

Grace nodded and went over to her things. In her folder, a dorm key was taped to the first page. She sighed and glanced back at Anna. Her aunt was watching her with a smile and gave her a thumbs up.

She waved back a little and dragged her suitcases to where the map said her dorm would be.

Her dorm room door was really simple and white. It looked neither inviting nor bewaring. A strange thing to notice, but, well, it was Grace's mind.

When she walked in, her roommate was already there, and she did her best not to cower in fear.

The girl turned immediately as Grace entered the room.

Grace's first impression was 'wow'.

The girl was tiny, shorter than Grace, but only by a couple inches. She looked agile and athletic. Grace considered gymnastics. Definitely something sports. If not then Grace would be surprised. The girl wasn't wearing any makeup that Grace could see, which made her like her a little more.

The girl was noticeably Asian with her long, dark hair drawn in two pigtails that painfully reminded Grace of her Aunt Anna. At least they weren't braided. She was wearing a simple black V-neck shirt with a brown leather jacket and dark skinny jeans neatly tucked into mid-calf brown lace-up combat boots. She both impressed and terrified Grace. Later on, Grace would learn that this was a completely normal reaction.

Four out of five times, Grace had reasons for her immediate reaction songs. But when 'Mr. Know It All' by Kelly Clarkson popped into her mind, she couldn't have explained it for the life of her. Well, she could match some aspects, but she didn't know this girl at all, and she was sure there would be much better songs for her.

She must have just been in a Kelly Clarkson mood that day, she supposed.

"Hello," the girl said simply. "I'm going to assume you're my roommate?"

"Uh, yeah," Grace replied awkwardly.

"I'm Cypress DunBroch."

"Gracelynn Frost."

"Hi. Hey...aren't you...?"

"Jack and Elsa Frost's daughter? Yeah." Grace looked down.

"I don't know if you remember, but my mom, Merida DunBroch, she was friends with your parents," Cypress smiled, obviously avoiding the topic Grace wanted to the most. Grace appreciated how she was but didn't make a big deal of avoiding it, either.

"Really?"

"We've lived in Scotland for most of my life but we met when we were little, plus we went to...yeah. I know they kept in touch, though. A couple months ago, we moved to Berk, and my mom got in touch with the Haddocks. You do know them, right?"

"Um...Haddocks...sounds familiar..." And it really did, but she didn't really remember all that much. Although, now that she thought about it, she vaguely remembered a couple toddlers come visit a few times when she was three or four.

"They should. You're parents were really close with them. I guess Berk is a little farther than Arendelle. I guess you didn't meet too much."

"Guess not." The weirdness of the situation suddenly hit Grace like a ton of bricks. How high were the chances she'd be roommates with the daughter of one of her parents' friends? Not very.

"We'll have to find Ben sometime. I think he said he was arriving here at noon," Cypress pulled out her phone and checked some messages. "Yeah, noon. So about ten minutes. Hey, is that all you brought?"

"Huh? Oh, these? No. The rest are down with my Aunt Anna." Grace didn't have any time at all to wonder who Ben was. Based on the situation, she guessed he was a Haddock.

"Oh. Do you want help?"

"That'd be great, actually."

She might as well try and make friends. Besides, Cypress would be her roommate for the rest of the year.

Grace tossed Cypress's mother's name around in her head.

Merida DunBroch.

It sounded awfully familiar. If she could put a face to it, it'd be a redhead...

"You're probably wondering about my mom, huh?"

Grace blinked.

"I can see you trying to remember," she explained.

She didn't know why, but Grace was starting to like this Cypress girl. Her personality was a little rough but it was a nice change for her.

"'DunBroch' is Scottish, and so is my mom. She never married but she had a close relationship with her mom. So she adopted me."

Scottish. Who knew? Now that Grace heard it, she could detect just the slightest bit of a Scottish tinge to Cypress's speech. It was faint, but present. She wondered if it came out more or even if she slipped into the very language itself when she got angry.

"Oh... I'm sorry, I feel like I should remember these things..."

"Don't worry. I'm sure it must have been a hard year for you. What are you majoring in, by the way?"

Perhaps it was the way Cypress said it like a cold, hard, and simple fact that made Grace not cringe.

"Music. I play the violin."

"Oh, cool. You have to be involved in some kind of musical class here. The musicologists have it easy. Luckily, Mom went here and made me pick up something. I'm in the orchestra, too. Cello."

"I love the cello!" Grace exclaimed.

"Yeah, it's got a pretty sound. I'm not too interested in it, though. I just play for the credit."

"Oh...well, I'm glad you're in orchestra."

"Thanks. That gives us a chance to talk, at least. I'm majoring in Physical Education. Archery, mainly, but I do some gymnastics."

_What do you know, I was right, _Grace thought proudly to herself.

"That sounds really cool."

"Yeah, I love it-"

"Hey! DunBroch!" a loud voice called. Cypress snorted and turned to the voice.

"Thought you'd never get here, Haddock!" she called back.

A boy around their age walked up. He had long but messy dark brown hair, with an almost auburn tinge to it. A couple freckles were scattered across his nose but they were only noticeable when he was standing directly in front of you. He was tall, too. But the first word that popped into her mind was 'lean'.

Grace wasn't totally immune to the looks of the opposite gender, so she could see that this boy- she'd put money that this was Ben- was handsome. Or, whatever girls called boys who were good-looking. Like Cypress, he had an athletic aura.

"Hey, Grace, this is Ben," Cypress introduced, even though Grace could put two and two together. "Ben, this is Grace. Grace _Frost._"

Grace could see the realization flash across his face and it made her flustered as ever, but she was glad that he kept his carefree banter.

"Hey! You probably don't remember me-"

"You're Ben Haddock," she interrupted.

"Hey, she does remember me!"

"Not really," Grace chided, smiling.

Cypress laughed. "Go check in, dork. We'll meet up with you later."

"Whatever, nerd," Ben smirked and headed off.

You know that feeling where you see two people you've just met and you can't quite tell whether or not they're dating and you don't know the person well enough to feel comfortable asking? Grace was feeling that now. Only, she didn't know that she was feeling this because she had never really been around kids her own age before (aside from Cypress and Ben, which was, let's face it, thirteen years ago), so she was stuck with this uncomfortable and twisting feeling in her gut that she had no idea what it was.

While she knew Cypress a little, she only had a brief run-in with Ben and could therefore not really comprehend an opinion of him personally.

"So, where's your Aunt parked?"

"Oh, just over here," Grace led them over to Anna's awaiting car and they began to take the remaining boxes up to their dorm.

With two people, the girls got the loads done in four trips.

"There were a couple more boxes, are you sure you don't want me to help?" Cypress asked once they got to their dorm on the third trip.

"No, that's fine. You've helped a ton, I'll just be right back," Grace insisted. "Maybe when we get back we can go check out the practice rooms?"

"Yeah, sure," Cypress agreed.

Grace headed out the door with her head down.

Her boots made clicking sounds that echoed in the hallways. It was a lot more deserted than Grace would have thought.

When she got back down to the car, she gathered the remaining boxes and slammed the trunk closed.

Just before Grace began to think that Anna wasn't going to say goodbye, she called out, "Grace!"

"Yeah?" she turned her head.

Anna got out of the car and gave her a meaningful hug. "We'll miss you."

Grace squeezed her eyes shut and returned her hug with the boxes balancing in one arm.

"Me too."

The two didn't say anything else, and Grace got the feeling that if either did they might burst into tears.

"See you Christmas break?" Grace asked.

Anna nodded and kissed the top of her head. Then, she got back in the car and drove away. Grace watched the car disappear through the gates before she turned away...

...and caught sight of a passing stranger.

The word that came to Grace's mind was 'dark'. There was nothing else to say.

The stranger was male. He wore a black leather jacket with a hood that she couldn't quite tell was attached to said jacket or separate drawn low over his head. His face was pale from what she could see of it, with thin lips pressed together, as if he wasn't really seeing any of his surroundings. So, why did Grace get the feeling he was watching her?

He wore dark blue jeans and what Grace thought were Vans- black, obviously. She could picture his face and arms laden with tattoos.

He was perhaps around Ben's height, and just as lean. His hands were shoved in his pockets. It would have seemed fitting that he was slouching, but if Grace really looked, he was only bent over slightly. His posture was near perfect.

_Strange, _she thought.

"Bulletproof, La Roux," she muttered beneath her breath. Again, she couldn't quite understand why, as this guy looked like some bad ass that just walked out of a gang fight unscathed, but she couldn't explain her mind any better than she could understand her life.

_Been there done that, messed around_

_I'm having fun, don't put me down_

_I'll never let you sweep me off my feet_

_I won't let you in again_

_The messages I've tried to send_

_My information's just not going in_

Grace continued to stare at the new stranger as the lyrics came flowing through her mind. She felt stupid, but she wasn't really...attracted to him, more mesmerized. So it was okay, right?

Why did she get the feeling she was looking at a wounded beast? Like a monster who was only kept around for beating purposes. Like he was forced to be strong, just like her. She didn't even know this person, for God's sake!

_I'm burning bridges shore to shore_

_I break away from something more_

_I'm not turned off to love until it's cheap_

_Been there done that, messed around_

_I'm having fun, don't put me down_

_I'll never let you sweep me off my feet_

If she could play this tune, and if she'd still been willing to play the piano like she used to, this song would be more of a beautiful melody instead of an upbeat song like it's originally played.

_This time baby_

_I'll be, bulletproof_

_This time baby,_

_I'll be, bulletproof_

This stranger certainly seemed bulletproof. He gave off the feeling that he was really cool, and he knew it, but he didn't flaunt it. Grace couldn't quite tell whether or not she liked him.

_I won't let you turn around_

_And tell me now I'm much too proud_

_To walk away from something when it's dead_

_Do, do, do your dirty words_

_Come out to play when you are hurt_

_There are certain things that should be left unsaid_

Grace could agree with that. Definitely.

_Tick, tick, tick, tick on the watch_

_And life's too short for me to stop_

_Oh baby, your time is running out_

_I won't let you turn around_

_And tell me now I'm much too proud_

_All you do is fill me up with doubt_

The stranger suddenly turned, as if he sensed he was being watched. Grace looked away before she met his eyes, turning red and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

She glimpsed at her promise ring for a moment before sneaking a glance back at the dark stranger. He had looked away, thank goodness, and was still walking away, his hands shoved in his pockets, seeming to suck all the darkness towards him and magnify it.

Somehow, that seemed to make him lighter to Grace. _Yes, because _that _makes perfect sense._

Grace let the thought escape from her mind and continued on her way. No use in worrying over things that weren't her concern. She had enough to worry about in her own domain.

_This time baby_

_I'll be, bulletproof_

She nearly stumbled up a few steps on the way to her dorm room building, but she was glad she didn't fall. That would have been embarrassing. Now for the matter for the matter for the door...

_This time baby_

_I'll be, bullet-_

"Here, let me get that for you," a deep voice said, cutting off her straying thoughts.

Grace blinked, looking at her momentary savior.

She took two seconds to register his appearance but it was enough.

This stranger was perhaps shorter, but taller than Grace by any means. He had well tanned skin and warm, seemingly golden eyes that Grace didn't even know was possible. His hair was ruffled and a light, sandy brown, nearly as golden as his hair. If Grace was an artist, she'd probably leap at the chance to draw him. She hated to sound this giddy, and it didn't mean she automatically liked him, but holy crap she had to admit that this boy was _hot_.

"Thank you," she choked out.

He held the door open for her, and she gratefully moved inside.

"Do you have a dorm room in this building?" Grace attempted at small talk but cringed when it ended up sounding like she planned to stalk him.

He smiled and gave a low chuckle. Grace couldn't help but admire how perfect his teeth were. What a strange thing to notice, and she felt incredibly stupid.

"Yeah, actually. I just got here. I would ask the same, but I can figure a few things out," he pointed to the boxes in Grace's arms. Which were suddenly really heavy.

She mentally scolded herself when she tripped and nearly dropped the boxes. Now it seemed like she was asking for help and Grace did _not _ask for help.

"Do you want some help?"

'No' is what she told her brain to say. "Sure, thanks," is what her mouth said.

_Grace! _her brain screamed.

_I don't know what happened! _she cried back. And she really didn't. Maybe being home schooled wasn't such a good idea. Her hormones were going to get a _serious _talking to when she got back to the dorm.

"I'm Marcus, by the way," he said, taking a few of the boxes out of her hands.

"Grace," she replied, nodding in thanks.

She felt a little uncomfortable walking up to her dorm with this seemingly perfect stranger by her side- carrying some of _her _boxes, if she might add- but what could she really do about it? Kindness was kindness, and unless he planned on robbing her later on, she should be grateful.

"Thank you," she said when she got there, cursing the fact that her cheeks felt just the slightest bit warm from all of her overthinking.

"No problem. See you around Grace," he waved and headed back down the way they had come.

Grace stared after him for a moment with a confused expression before turning to her door to open it.

Walking in, she convinced herself that if she had known being a teenager was this hard, she never would have grown up in the first place...you know, if that was actually a legitimate possibility.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry to dump this extremely long second chapter on you, but there was too much to say and there was plenty room, so... read it and be happy... This chapter was mainly introductions and mediocre writing so I apologize for the lack of style.<strong>

**Anyways, I know, I know, no news on Jack and Elsa yet. In case you all were wondering, there will be the two of them quite often, so you won't be stuck with Grace the entire time. It will be rare when there is just a chapter on Grace. Sure, it'll happen because, she _is _the main protagonist but I won't just give you that story all the time.**

**And for any of The Shifter readers, yes, I made Cypress and Ben the daughter of Merida and son of Hiccup and Astrid. It's a little different but I hope it's acceptable.**

**Okay, review time!**

**AhsokaTano11: haha, thank you so much! And literally, that's how I feel when I get new reviews...I'm not a weirdo...or am I?! Jk, for the most part.**

**CupcakeMonkey567: nooo! You can't die! You have to wait until the end of the story! Then you can die. I'm just kidding, guys! Dying is a very bad reaction to reading a story and I wouldn't recommend it.**

**ATA: you will just have to find out...MUAHAHAHA! Sorry guys, no spoilers for this story. You have to read it as is. As fr the anmes, Jenny is completely random, I just liked it. Cliff is actually the name ofone of the trolls and I was being uncreative so there. And Katie, well, if you guys can't figure that out then I might as well delete TSOKH and save me the effort. **

**(*cough cough*, Falcon88 *cough*)**

**Guest/ThePotatoQueen: I know, right? And awww, thanks! And assume nothing! Lol, assume all you want, but I will say nothing! You can't make me!**

**Jewelaria Rosha: Grace; HAHA! My cookies!**

**P.N.4700; Grace, don't eat all the cookies**

**Grace; but whyyyyyyy!?**

**P.N.4700; because I said so**

**Grace; fine. *secretly stuff cookies in pockets* sooooapop...well, keep us informed on Ron!**

**P.N.4700; Grace! We have more productive things to do than pry into a random stranger's personal life!**

**Grace; like what?**

**P.N.4700; oh, I don't know, maybe WRITE A STORY?!**

**Grace; oh, don't pretend like you're not interested.**

**P.N.4700; oh shut up**

**Falcon88: oh hush, I've been busy, in my defense! Haha, you will have to wait and see! Once again, guys, MD is a completely original symptom that I have MADE UP FROM A FIGMENT OF MY IMAGINATION! Although I tend to do this myself so I can just name random songs and blame it on, 'MD!' And right, that was you who mentioned the time difference...as I said, we'll both have to figure it out as we go along. Haha, that would be me... If you want a happy and cheerful Jelsa fanfic, do yourself a favor and just don't click on my story. If you do, read at your own risk. Side effects include: depression, anger, sadness, belief that you are alone, virtual seizures, heart attacks, spasms, as well as weird looks when you read it in public, and, in extreme cases, virtual death.**

**On that cheery note, until next update!**


	3. I Will Wait

**"You don't have to try so hard/You don't have to give it all away/You just have to get up, get up, get up, get up/You don't have to change a single-"**

**Okay, I'm done now.**

**Lol, little fun fact, if I had known of that song in the time of TSOKH that totally would have been a chapter. Who knows, maybe it'll be one here...**

**So sorry! I meant to update sooner, I just haven't had to time to write a new chapter!**

**Oh, also, I think if I'm having troubles with a song decision, I may or may not add a little survey at the end of the bottom A/N for reviewers to vote on, so, it might pay off to read them!**

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><p>Jack Frost was not generally a pessimist, but, need dire times arise, he was gloomier than a storm.<p>

In this case, it was not the time to be a pessimist. Now, he wished and he hoped and he prayed with all his might just that _she _would make it to the next day, and when she did, he'd wish and hope and pray all over again. She hadn't woken up yet, but he knew that she was alive. That much was comforting to the soul, at least.

She had been sleeping for a long time, now. Jack didn't know whether it had been days or weeks. All he knew was the darkness. Also that he was hungry, but he couldn't worry about that now. Elsa needed him.

Jack hugged her close and stroked her grimy hair. To him, it was still beautiful. He had stopped bleaching his hair years ago, but it was definitely a lighter shade than before. But it was nothing like Elsa's platinum blonde, or Grace's-

He choked when he thought of Grace.

Oh, God, how had he not even thought to give a prayer towards his own daughter?

Jack felt tears leak to his eyes. He squeezed them shut, willing them away. The pain. It was unbearable. He felt every single second of every single blacked-out day. Often times, he'd groan out loud and double over just because it hurt so_(. Goddamn.)_ he didn't want to deal with it.

Was it cowardice? Was it fear? Was it anger? Was it guilt?

Was it what Elsa had felt every day?

He suddenly had more respect for his wife- more so than before. (Which, in any case, was a_ lot _to begin with.) He had always known that she had felt guilty for the two major accidents that had happened in both of their lives. Well, technically it was three, if he counted when she had shut him out then left him forever without so much of a goodbye. Which he did.

Things were hard, and he was honestly terrified. He hated being scared, though. He was supposed to protect Elsa, he was supposed to protect Grace. He was supposed to protect his family, goddammit! How could one accident end him here? But...where was here? Wouldn't he have known that he had died? He would gladly die with Elsa in his arms, but Grace still needed him back home, still needed them. Why was it so dark, though? What could ave happened?

All these questions made his head hurt, so he slid down, spooning his wife as she slept soundly. As least she seemed comfortable, if unconscious.

Elsa was safe. He was going to make sure things stayed that way. But he couldn't do a single thing for his daughter, and that drove him crazy. He should be able to do something, but if there was anything, he couldn't think of it. He would just have to wait out the storm, he figured.

* * *

><p>"Are you kidding me? No. Just no."<p>

"Come on, Grace," Cypress pushed. "Please?"

"No way. I am not saying anything! Besides, nothing happened, anyways!" she denied, throwing her hands in the air.

"Grace," Cypress raised her eyebrows at her, giving her a very pointed stare. "When Marcus Whitman says 'hi' to you at random, it's something. Girls are going to be on your case, mark my words. Now tell me. What happened."

Grace sighed at Cypress failing to ask a literal question. So what? Marcus had just said hi to her when they passed him during the halls. Why was this such a big deal?

They had been on their way to the cafeteria where they were serving lunch. Perfectly normal. But no. Cypress had to make a big deal about Marcus Whitman.

"Who even is he?" she asked.

"Oh, he's just the most popular guy in our grade. He's a sports major as well. We went to the same junior high, actually. He's pretty cool. But more importantly, lots og girls have crushes on him, and trust me when I say this, you do not want attention from him."

"I wasn't trying to get attention from him," Grace blushed heavily (curse her pale skin!), "he just helped me carry some boxes up to my dorm."

"Oh, please. Soon enough you'll be drooling all over him and _I'm _going to have to deal with it!"

"I swear, I won't drool over Marcus Whitman. I don't even like him! Well, I mean, I like him fine, just, not like that... I'm gonna shut up now."

"Yeah, whatever. Trust me, it was bad enough at the start of last year when the popular girls found out I was going to be in the same major as him. I mean, he's not property."

"I get it," Grace agreed, even though she didn't really understand the whole social period.

"Come on, let's get something to eat," she said as they entered the cafeteria.

"Do you want a sandwich?" Cypress asked her.

"Um, no thank you. Vegetarian," she explained.

"'kay. Salads are over there, and just so you know, the lemonade is amazing."

"I'll remember that," Grace laughed.

Luckily, the line was short. She paid from her account and wandered over to meet Cypress when she got out of line.

All of a sudden, it seemed like the room darkened, if that was even possible. Nobody stopped to turn their heads, nobody cut off their conversation, and nobody paused to glance up, but Grace got the feeling that the atmosphere had changed.

She looked over her shoulder to find the boy from earlier. No, not Marcus. The one with the leather jacket and no face.

Only now he didn't have his hood.

_Strange, _she thought when she saw his appearance. His disheveled white hair reminded her of a picture of her father in high school when he bleached his hair, only slightly longer. It hung in his eyes and he didn't bother to brush it away every five seconds like Marcus had. His pale skin was high lighted with his dark clothes. His cheekbones were sharp enough to cut ice. His thin lips were pressed together and his eyes were trained to the ground. When he came to mind, he wasn't the drop-dead gorgeous feeling that she got like Marcus (wait...did she just think that?), but he was inevitably handsome in a dark-light contrast.

Just like before, it was as if he could sense someone watching him, and his eyes darted up to meet head-on with Grace's.

She froze so quickly she didn't even have time to blush at the fact that she had just been caught staring at this boy.

Quickly- so quickly she could have thought she imagined it, she could have sworn that the corners of his mouth turned upwards just slightly. But as soon as she thought she saw it, it vanished and the boy redirected his eyes back at the ground, as if nothing had even happened.

"Oh my God, don't tell me," Cypress broke Grace out of her thought and she jumped slightly, tearing her eyes away from the mysterious boy.

"W-what?" she asked.

"First Marcus, now you're interested in _him_?"

"I'm not- I didn't mean to- I wasn't... Who is he exactly?" Grace stammered.

Cypress chuckled. "That's Nate Lightwood. Just like Marcus, he's bad news. Only, the popular girls can't get to him, either. If they can't have him then they figure no one else can. Luckily for everyone else, he doesn't seem interested in anything to do with girls- or other people, for that matter."

"I feel like I can relate," Grace muttered. Then, a bit louder, "Don't worry. I was just watching him. It's not like I'm developing a crush on every guy I look at."

Cypress laughed. "Good."

"Let's go sit down, or something," she suggested, and the two girls left.

* * *

><p>Later on that day, Grace wandered to the practice rooms with her violin case in tow. Subconsciously, she started heading for room 7.<p>

When she got there, she flushed when there was already someone in there.

Huddled over the grand piano, a white head of hair was deep in concentration.

_Nate, _she remembered.

She was just about to turn away when she caught the sound of his playing.

It wasn't a song she recognized, but it was beautiful, nonetheless. It was slow in the melody, like a lullaby, but fast in the harmony. Slow to sound beautiful but fast to sound challenging, she figured. Her mother used to do that with some songs, as if to remind everyone that even though she was playing a lullaby, she could still play. She wished her mother were here...

Hearing the piano made Grace feel sad. She missed having one at her Aunt Anna's to play. She had brought a keyboard but it wasn't the same. She knew her piano technique had lost its flare, though. It just wasn't the same without her mother guiding her. It still made her smile, though. It felt like she was connecting with her mother, somewhere out there.

Singing was another concept, though. Grace never really preferred to sing, after all, one didn't really sing and play the violin, so she never found it beneficial to take seriously. But now she just refused to sing at all. Playing instruments was one thing, but singing was another. That brought too much pain and she couldn't deal with it. Singing didn't feel like connecting with her mother, or her father. She found solstice in all music, but for obvious reasons, Grace no longer sang.

She just sounded too much like _her._

Nate's piano didn't sound like it was coming from a recording, though. It sounded beautiful and soulful and alive, and Grace loved it. If she could capture the sound of him playing live she could have.

For once, Grace didn't match the feeling to a song. This was something else. It was a whole new song.

Before she could be caught (again), Grace left her position by the door and entered room 5.

The piano had brought back memories she'd rather leave buried. It's not like she could help what she believed. It was just that no one believed them as well. Why couldn't she let them go? Was she just so in denial that she had convinced herself that her parents were out there somewhere, alive?

She wanted to move on, she wanted to forget, but she couldn't. It just wasn't possible. No matter what she tried to tell herself, she knew that she would always wait for them.

"I Will Wait, Mumford & Sons," she murmured, resting her chin on her violin. She had gotten quite good at playing by ear in the last two years, so she would often play for fun. Grace began the song as a slow tune, almost somber. Which, she thought, it was.

Like always, she thought the lyrics along in her head as she played them.

_Well I cam home_

_Like a stone_

_And I fell heavy into your arms_

How she wished she had arms to fall into... Well, technically, she did, just not the ones she yearned for. She should be grateful for what she has but can she help it if she wanted her mom and dad? If she didn't want to be alone?

_These days of dust_

_Which we've known_

_Will blow away with this new sun_

She could hope. She had to hope that they would. It was the only way she could begin to "move on." So it wasn't really moving on but it was the closest Grace would get.

_And I'll kneel down_

_Wait for now_

_I'll kneel down_

_Know my ground_

That much was true. She had been trying to lay low, maybe see if the feeling had subsided. Of course it hadn't.

_And I will wait, I will fair for you_

_And I will wait, I will wait for you_

Was it sad that she knew she would? Not only for now, but for probably the rest of her life.

_So break my step_

_And relent_

_Well you forgave and I won't forget_

_Know what we've seen_

_And with him less_

_And in some way shake the excess_

Grace closed her eyes as she played this part. She wasn't to be a show off (there was no one there to watch anyways), she just liked to listen. Even though this was a fast tune, it sounded almost pretty at this slow and steady pace.

_Cause I will wait, I will wait for you_

_And I will wait, I will wait for you_

_And I will wait, I will wait for you_

_And I will wait, I will wait for you_

Sometimes, Grace wondered if her parents would be proud of her if they could see her now. Of course they would, she's their daughter and they would never say they weren't proud of her, but she still wondered. It was something that she worried about, and always would.

_Now I'll be bold_

_As well as strong_

_And use my head alongside my heart_

_So tame my flesh_

_And fix my eyes_

_A tethered mind freed from the lies_

Grace would have to be bold and strong to make it through. She felt like if she could stay strong and keep going, maybe she'll have earned enough in fate's mind to get her parents back.

_I'll kneel down_

_Wait for now_

_I'll kneel down_

_Know my ground_

At least, that's what she wanted to believe.

_Raise my hands_

_Paint my spirit gold_

_And bow my head_

_Keep my heart slow_

Grace thought that since fate was such a cruel twist of pain and irony, the least it could do was try and allow her to earn her parents back. Of course, she didn't really know what she had done to get them taken away from her, but she would cross that bridge later. If she ever got them back she would hold on to them and never let go.

_Cause I will wait, I will wait for you_

_And I will wait, I will wait for you_

_And I will wait, I will wait for you_

_And I will wait, I will wait for you_

And Grace knew that she always would. No matter what.

As she finished the chord, she glanced at the snowflake ring adorning her finger.

_Always, _she thought.

* * *

><p>A little fun fact; Jack was freaking out. He didn't know how much time had passed, but he knew that Elsa should have woken up by now. Plus, he was hungry and he needed food soon. Elsa would need it too, but she was asleep. It didn't matter, really, he would force feed her to keep her from starving if he had to.<p>

His stomach grumbled painfully and he winced. His arm still hurt and he hoped a bone hadn't jolted out of place. Otherwise, it wouldn't heal right and he'd be forced to...he didn't know, break it again so it could heal right? He wasn't any doctor, he didn't know these things. Although, now that he thought about it, majoring in medicine would have been highly beneficial in his situation right now.

"Elsa, wake up, please," he whispered. His throat felt even more parched. He knew that he needed water before food. Elsa had taught him that once. But if Elsa would wake up, he'd happily trade that for water. Of course, water was sort of mandatory to live, and though he convinced himself that he needed Elsa to go on and vice versa, if Elsa woke up and they didn't have water, that would be a problem.

She stirred at his breath tickling her ear, but she didn't wake. Jack smoothed her hair down and kissed her forehead. Words could not express how much he loved her. Nor how much he wanted her to wake up.

"Please," he croaked. "Help."

Suddenly, a steady _tap, tap, tap_ pierced the dark world around him, and Jack shot up like a bullet.

Those sounds were footsteps.

Jack tried to rise, but just sitting up made his head spin and his arm ache. He settled for straightening up and hugging Elsa's limp frame to his chest.

Some awful grating noise echoed around the room. Jack wanted to cover his ears tight but that would mean letting go of Elsa and as cliche as it sounded, he would never do that.

"Eat up," a voice whispered, so quiet he couldn't make out a tone. "I promise it's not poisoned."

Jack then realized that this person was giving him food.

He laid Elsa down gently before lunging towards the person.

He felt around for the tray. He came across a tray with two bottles of water, something that felt like bread, stuck his fingers into lukewarm soup of some sort, and something else hard and earthy-smelling. Perhaps a potato.

He drained one bowl of the soup that tasted like liquid chalk and tore a chunk of the bread. It was grainy but moderately satisfying. The potato(?) was cut up in chunks so he tested it out with a small one. They were very hard but once chewed, not half bad. Though definitely a raw potato.

After a second, he felt around for something else on the tray that he hadn't noticed before. It was hard and lumpy. He shoved one strip of the mystery item in his mouth. It was a meat of some sort, cured, dried, and salted. Heavily salted. It made him glad he hadn't opened his water first.

Once he chewed and swallowed that, he opened a water and drained what he thought was half of it. Elsa was still sleeping in the corner and he slowly dragged the tray over to her. Since she was still asleep, he finished off the potatoes and the salted meat, leaving a bowl of soup he could hopefully get her to swallow without choking, maybe even douse the bread in it so she could eat that.

"Very good. We wouldn't want our guests to starve now, would we?" a second voice sneered, obviously male and obviously mocking.

Jack once again froze. He knew that voice... He _knew _that voice!

He tried to make his mouth form the name, but it wouldn't obey.

The voice laughed and footsteps echoed away as he left. A door slammed shut somewhere and something heavy fell. Probably a lock. Meaning that they were trapped here whether Elsa was awake or not, and Jack was in no form strong enough to try and break it down.

He shivered and tried his best not to let his eyes water. After all, grown ups don't cry.

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><p><strong>Done! Okay, what did you think? I know, I'm not really using my best writing for this story, but I'm hoping it's still good. I'm trying, just the writing isn't following through with the idea. I'm also hoping the idea is enough to make up for the writing. Okay, review time! Again, sorry for the long wait!<br>**

**LeeLuLove: Don't even worry about it! I'm happy that you're reviewing in the first place! And yeah, I did change their parentage but it makes sense kinda so... forgiven? And the mysterious dark guy's name only makes sense if a) you know a little bit about The Guardians of Childhood and b) can put two and two together (and then multiply it by seven and divide by pie because math). Hopefully (I'm using this word waay too much) The Shifters will be updated soon as well.**

**ThePotatoQueen: hahahaha, that's the good thing about OCs, you have no idea who is going to be with who! I feel so powerful! And when typing your guest name, I was thinking why is potato so familiar typing? And then I realized. The food on the tray has no relevance to your guest name, I swear!**

**DisneyObsessiveFan: lol, why thank you!**

**Falcon88: aww, thanks! And my stories are very depressing, I have to have something to balance it out at times, otherwise you all would be having thoughts of suicide (no offense to anyone but it's true). And since I don't ship Merricup (as many of you know), Merida does not have a love interest, but I still wanted her to have a child because she had such a strong mother-daughter relationship. In The Shifters, I make Cypress Asian (I think I said Korean in this story), so I thought that I could have Merida's adopt Cypress as a baby and have her as her child. There is no importance to Cypress's birth parents, she's just adopted. And Marcus is not anyone of importance's child (no offense to his parents), he's just a character. And because the baby's name is Katie (cough cough, Katrian), and she didn't know the reference. And thank you, but my stories are still depressing. Oh my gosh, why are my responses to your reviews always so dlipping long?!**

**4Love4Love4: I am so sorry! I completely failed at fulfilling your request! I'll try to be better, promise on my OPT! (aka, Jelsa)**

**Jewelaria Rosha: I really hope Hans doesn't get hyper off of cookies... And don't tell us these things cause thenw e;ll be interested in knowing what happens! *pouty face* Grace would be here, too, but she's a little busy playing violin and being alone. Is it sad that that's sorta-kinda-maybe my fault? And don't worry about it! Trust me, I know busy...**

**See you all next time! Hopefully it won't be as long...**


	4. Temporary Home

**Well, I hoped, and I tried, but, obviously, I failed. Sorry guys! The sad thing is that I really don't have an excuse. I've been writing other things and time just got out of hand. I have some good and ironic news, though! Literally, 85% of the reason I want to see this movie is because it's got Anna Kendrick, Johnny Depp and, wait for it, Chris Pine. The movie is Into The Woods, and it's a musical. Guys, know what this means?! We're gonna hear Jack Frost sing! Unfortunately, after some reading up on the musical it's based off of, Pine's character is going to be a bit (lot) of a douche, but, whatever, I still want to see it!**

**Oh, and I told my sister (who is not a Fanfictioner...sure that's a word) about it, and she's like, Chris Pine in a musical? I can't see that. So I asked why not, and all she says is, have you seen him? He's hot. And I'm just there face-palming and shouting, what does that have to do with anything whatsoever?! Come on, I know I write about these things but honestly, there's so many more important things to life, peoples!**

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><p>After thinking about it, watching Nate Lightwood play the piano was really creepy and stalker-istic. Whether that was a real word or not, Grace didn't particularly care, she was just too embarrassed. Not to mention, it didn't help that she seemed to see him <em>everywhere <em>she went. Granted, it had only been a day or so, but she could always pick him out in a crowd, a skill she wasn't proud of and didn't want. There was nothing that stood out about Nate Lightwood, other than he was a mystery. She certainly didn't have a crush on him, otherwise her heart would be beating fast like for a certain blonde-haired boy...okay, she did _not _just think that, so she didn't understand why Nate Lightwood had caught her attention so much.

Cypress was quickly becoming her friend, so there was that. If her mom hadn't moved back to Scotland and her own parents hadn't, well, died, she wondered if they would have been friends beforehand. It would have been nice, to have an old childhood friend like Cypress and Ben.

Grace supposed that she should be worried about the new school year, and she was, but mostly excited. She had been homeschooled her entire life so this many kids her age in the same campus was a novelty she was quickly coming to enjoy. Maybe she would be more nervous if she had gone to a public school like all the rest of the kids. But on the inside, she knew that that wasn't an option, because she definitely wasn't like the other kids. Not anymore, at least.

"Alright, what's going on for today?" she asked in the morning.

"Well, I was going to check out the gym, if you don't mind," Cypress looked a little guilty, which then made Grace feel guilty. She didn't want Cypress to feel like it was her job to baby her.

"No, that's fine. Although, I think I will sit this one out. I have plenty of music to get caught up on, anyway," she smiled, trying to let her know that it was alright. Cypress seemed to get the message and nodded.

"Have fun. You know where to find me if you need me. And remember, no getting into trouble!" she reminded her on the way out the door.

"I'll try to remember that," Grace muttered as she left. Her violin sat in the corner, just waiting to be picked up and played.

"Alright, Grace, try to remember to pretend that you fit in here," she sighed and retrieved her violin, walking out to the practice rooms.

The halls were quite spacious, so there were plenty of people about. As a new sophomore, she was sure that most people were staring at her, but she tried not to mind and keep walking.

It was only a matter of time before she spotted Nate Lightwood leaning against the wall, oblivious to the crowd around him with his hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket and his interesting green eyes trained on the ground. Grace stared at him as usual, trying to discover what made him so...drawing in her eyes.

Except this time, he looked up, meeting Grace's graze full on. She didn't stop walking, but she froze. She had just been caught watching him...what does one do in this situation? Oh no, he wouldn't think she liked him? Now she was freaking out and...

And he walked away.

Grace let out a breath, telling herself to breathe normally and push the heat from her cheeks. No more staring at Nate Lightwood. That guy gave her the creeps. Or, at least, that's what she'll call it. Maybe it wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, but it certainly wasn't good. She should really heed Cypress's advice and stay away from boys.

And, she should also really look where she's going, because in that moment, she stumbled into, the one and only, Marcus.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" Grace cried, covering her burning face with her hands. Somehow, Marcus had caught her violin before it had hit the ground, something Grace was eternally grateful for but couldn't summon the words to say so.

"No problem, it was my fault," he smiled at her.

_No it wasn't, stop being so nice._

"Thank you, you probably just saved me from an embarrassing first day of orchestra...more so than it will be," she said as he handed her violin back.

"Anytime," he chuckled. "So you're in orchestra?"

He cares? What? The wheels in Grace's head were turning about a mile a minute, and she couldn't make sense. Sitting down suddenly sounded like a really good idea, only they were in the middle of the hallway. Darn, on to plan B; keep acting like the socially awkward dork she is.

"Uh huh," she nodded. "What about you?"

"Choir, actually. I'm instrumentally declined," he joked. "But I'm majoring in physical education. Little bit of everything, but football primarily."

Grace nodded her head and pretended like she had followed all of that. She knew what football was, but she didn't want to sound stupid asking more about it in general. She suddenly noticed that they were walking down the halls together. Which, was obvious, yes, but people were staring. Just how popular was Marcus?

"How have you liked BPAA?" Grace asked, desperate for a distraction from all the wandering eyes.

"It's great, really. All the majoring business is a little too much like college, but everyone seems to enjoy it. It's a Fine Arts Academy so I suppose it's got to be a little different, right?"

"I wouldn't really know," Grace admitted, "homeschooled all my life."

"Really? Was that any fun?"

"I really liked it. I always got along with my parents, so it was never an issue."

"Must be nice, having supportive parents. Mine are always pushing me. Which is a good thing, don't get me wrong, but for every single little thing, it gets kind of tiring, you know?"

"Um, not really," Grace looked away, feeling a burning sensation coming to her face. If only. She wouldn't care if her parents pushed her through the night and into the morning, if only she could have them back again. But she couldn't think like that. She had to hold on to her belief. She was right, she knew she was, if only she could convince everyone else she was.

"Must be nice," Marcus repeated.

"Yeah," Grace said, holding back the urge to scream at the top of her lungs that it wasn't because her parents were supposedly dead somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. "Anyways, it was nice running into you again...literally...sorry about that, but, um, I have to go practice...now...so, see you around?"

"Yeah. See you around, Grace," he smiled.

She smiled back, unsure of really what else to do, and walked away to the practice rooms. So that might have been the most humiliating moment of her life so far. Which was sad, if she really thought about it, but give her some slack, she's still so unused to, well, everything.

She shut herself in practice room 5, only because she didn't want to chance catching Nate Lightwood again. She noted how his surname seemed to be an add-on to his given in her mind, but she didn't care. He was more like a topic, a subject, that she somehow started observing. No more, no less. Because he was still a person.

Grace just took a minute to pace around the room and degrade herself for being such an idiot before she snapped open her violin case, momentarily tuning it while thinking back to the conversation.

She had thought that talking about them would have gotten easier, but it was still just as hard. She wasn't sure if Marcus not knowing made things better or worse. All od it just reminded her that she really didn't belong here. She belonged at home, in Arendelle Manor, with her undead parents. She belonged in the stables near their house learning to ride. Most of all, she didn't belong among other people.

The truth was, she didn't really want to belong here, didn't want to like it here. This was where her parents went to school, and it should feel like connecting to them, but instead, it just felt even lonelier because they weren't at home waiting for her Christmas Break. But she did like it here, she did want to belong here. She just didn't want to want it. It made her feel guilty, like she was betraying her parents by feeling happy somewhere else.

'Temporary' was such an overused word for her. In fact, it seemed to be all that she had, anymore. Temporary anything, that was Grace. Was it so bad that she wanted her parents back? Was it so bad that she couldn't accept that they were gone? Because accepting that they were gone would be accepting the world without them, and that was giving up on them altogether. She had sworn on her promise ring that she would never do that.

She twisted her mouth into something equivalent to a frown, and began to play the song without naming it out loud. All while humming the lyrics in her head as the melody played out upon the four strings of her violin.

_Little boy, six years old_

_A little too used to being alone_

_Another new mom and dad_

_Another school, a__nother house that'll never be home_

Grace could certainly relate to that little boy in the song. It seemed like all she'd been doing was trying to find home again, as sad that that sounded. She loved Anna and Kristoff, but they weren't her parents. That was a fact that she would never be able to get over. Nobody was her parents. Nobody except the two people out there with no chance of coming back, unless she can somehow make everyone believe her claims.

_When people ask him how he likes this place_

_He looks up and says with a smile upon his face_

Another thing she seemed to be doing a lot. Smiling wasn't really a strong suit of hers, but a simple one could work wonders on strangers. She'd found that out at the funeral, and it was a very nifty trick.

_This is my temporary home, __it's not where I belong_

_Windows and rooms t__hat I'm passing through_

_This is just a stop on the way to where I'm going_

_I'm not afraid because I know_

_This is my temporary home_

While Grace planned on being at BPAA for a while, she couldn't stay forever. She would always be moving on while people were settling down.

_Young mom, on her own_

_She needs a little help got nowhere to go_

_She's looking for a job, looking for a way out_

_Cause a halfway house will never be a home_

While she wasn't a mother, she was looking for a way out. She could see one, it was just within reach, but whenever something pushed her closer, it moved and changed again. Grace was starting to think she'd never find her way again. A halfway house, just like a halfway life, will never be a home.

_At night she whispers to her baby girl_

_"Someday we'll find our place here in this world"_

There she disagreed. Without her parents, she didn't know who she was, and she didn't know how to start looking, let alone if she even wanted to.

_This is our temporary home, it's not where we belong_

_Windows and rooms that we're passing through_

_This is just a stop on the way to where we're going_

_I'm not afraid because I know_

_This is our temporary home_

Grace shut her eyes as she played out, willing the music that faded into the air to take her sorrows with it. Unfortunately, no such luck. She was still sad, she was still alone, and she was still lost.

_Old man, hospital bed_

_The room is filled with people he loves_

_And he whispers_

_"Don't cry for me, I'll see you all someday"_

_He looks up and says_

_"I can see God's face"_

For a moment, Grace just stood in awe of her instrument, the beauty of its rich sound, the emotion she could plug into it just by the song, the way it felt right in her hands and, even though it couldn't take away her sorrows completely, it could distract her, and that's all she needed in that moment.

_This was my temporary home, it's not where I belong_

_Windows and rooms that I'm passing through_

_This was just a stop on the way to where I'm going_

_I'm not afraid because I know_

_This was my temporary home_

She let the note ring out, clearing her thoughts. It's a nice feeling, a refreshed mind.

She dropped her arms when the note was finally gone, sighing and blinking for an extended moment.

"This is my temporary home," she told herself firmly.

"Well, what a shame."

The voice behind her startled Grace so badly that she had to fumble like an idiot while trying to not let her violin crash to the ground. Red in the face, she turned around to face whoever it was, and chokes up when she sees who it is.

Nate Lightwood was standing in the doorway of her practice room.

Well, not her practice room, the school's practice room, but she was using it for the time being so that made it hers for the moment, she thinks, or maybe not, but- you know what? Grace really needed to get a grip on reality. In all aspects.

"Uh-um...what are you...hi?"

_Nice. Really, really nice._

Well what was she supposed to say to him? After all, she had practically been stalking the poor guy the past day!

Nate Lightwood (still not proverbial enough to have a first name alone) chuckled and stepped inside the practice room. Her practice room! Well, not hers and...here we go again.

"Um, w-what are you doing here?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, something that was familiar and made him seem a little less transcendental, alien, and a bit more...human.

"Forgive me," she looked down, "that was rude. But the question still remains, in a more polite intended way."

"And my answer shall be on my own terms."

"Well, you're the one who came into my practice room."

"Indeed, for other reasons highly classified."

"So, you're just coming to me with no explanation whatsoever?"

"In point of fact, exactly. However, rich, coming from one who has been striddling me for the most part of yesterday and a decent portion of today."

Grace turned red, but refused to swallow her pride, what little she had left and in the first place.

"Sorry, but are you always this sophisticated?"

"By all definition, when one does not speak very often, one generally desires to make some sort of impression, yes?"

"What?"

"Don't concern yourself. Have a good day, Gracelynn."

Grace stood there, dumbstruck, for just the slightest bit. She felt like she had been insulted in some way, but, running back through the brief yet frustrating conversion, Nate Lightwood hadn't said anything offending...she didn't think...no, he hadn't. But she still had that feeling.

"Wait!" she called, resting her violin on a chair before dashing out after him. "How do you know my name?"

"You know mine, do you not? Why is that such a question?"

"You still shouldn't know me."

"I don't. I simply know _of _you. That's highly a difference," he pointed out. Something about Nate Lightwood made Grace wish he had kept to his dark, mysterious persona. She thinks she liked him better that way.

"But still-"

"I give you my condolences, though I don't believe you need nor want them."

The question who says 'nor'? popped up into her head, and the image of Nate Lightwood with his dark attire, shock of white hair, and startling green eyes followed it.

"You're right." she said, suddenly sour. Who gave him the right to know about her parents, let alone be sorry for her? And how did he know about them in the first place? She supposed rumors did their names justice in plenty of times, this one being no exception. "Keep them."

"A tad bit belated to repossess, however, I am thankful."

"Are you always like this?" Grace asked with a bit of frustration. She figures he noticed, and she wasn't happy about it.

"Adieu, Gracelynn Frost." Nate Lightwood tipped an imaginary hat at her, then seemingly disappeared at he walked away into the shadows.

_Good riddance, _she thought. _I hope he stays there._

And yet, as annoying as Nate Lightwood had been introduced, she couldn't shake the feeling of an importance to his character. Some how, in some way that was sure to haunt her for the rest of her life if she thought about it too much. Then again, she couldn't quite shake the feeling of being insulted without really being insulted, so she deemed them both unimportant and erased the memory of Nate Lightwood from her mind as best she could.

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><p>Jack wasn't much for stress. He was always concerned about having a good time. But he was going to a: lose his hair in the span of the next three days if he kept pulling at it and b: wear a track into the ground for all the pacing he'd been doing.<p>

"Elsa, please, come on, it's time to wake up," he murmured. He swore, he was going to go crazy if she didn't wake up. The nameless man continued to bring him food, but he seemed like he was everywhere at once. When Jack thought he was scrapping the food tray towards him, his voice would cast out from a door far away, or vice versa. It was all so confusing and it made his head hurt even more than the endless headaches that had been reoccurring daily.

Still, Elsa refused to wake. He couldn't keep force feeding her soup and water forever, the woman was skinny enough as it is. Her platinum blonde hair was plastered to he face, and she shivered every so often. Jack had enveloped her in both the moth-bitten blankets as best he could but she was always cold. He thought that meant she had a fever, though he couldn't remember if sweating was a good thing or not, but he knew that she needed to keep warm. He would do all that he was capable of and more to make sure she made it out alright.

At night- or, what he thought was night- he curled up next to her, hugging her shaking frame to his chest and humming, sometimes singing lullabies to her. She always liked to sing. He wished he had a piano. She might awake for her beloved instrument. Or, even better, Grace's voice. What he would give to hear Grace's voice again, even for a moment or two.

But a mother's bond with her child was stronger than that of the father's. That much he knew, and not from any medical learning or previous knowledge. Elsa would wake for Grace. He was as sure of that as he was of anything.

But Grace wasn't here, and he prayed that she was alright, somewhere. He hoped that she was happy, even. That she wasn't taking their absences too hard. But he knew that she would do just that. Anna and Kristoff would take care of her, though, so that gave him a little bit of relief.

She wasn't alone, at least. And neither was he. He was determined to keep it that way.

He didn't really think Elsa would die, but the more he thought of it, the more it could become a possibility. The thought made him scared- more scared than he had been so far- and he shuddered at the very thought. He loved Grace to the moon and beyond, but if Elsa died, he wouldn't be able to live. As drastic as it sounded, it was true.

And so, Jack Frost's days were spent like this; pacing the cell (well, what he figured to be a cell), making sure Elsa gets some food and liquid in her stomach, and waiting. For. Absolutely. Nothing.

As you can imagine, he might have been going just the tiniest bit insane.

But he would keep it together. Elsa needed him, and somewhere out there, so did Grace. No matter what, he would try. He wouldn't give up because he didn't think he knew how to. Fight, even if there's nothing to fight against. He was scared, yes. He didn't know where he was, or how he had gotten there, or if he would get out, but he knew that he would survive. Or, maybe he wouldn't, but at least he'd be with Elsa and at least Grace would be safe. He hoped.

But hope was all he could do, especially when he was at the mercy of Pitch Black.

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><p><strong>Oh my god, I annoyed <em>myself <em>while writing Nate. Albeit, it was fun, but for his speaking parts, Thesaurus-.-com (take away the hyphens cause FF is weird and won't even let me put a .com thing) was my best friend. And Jack isn't really doing much other than what I explained, so his roles are a little limited. I was rereading Chapter 2 (because I can), and more towards the end, I was literally thinking, 'Oh god I cannot I believe I actually wrote this.' Please bear with me through these hard writing times, I'll try to do better, I swear.**

**Review time! I'm honestly not 100% sure where they started, so I'll just start here...**

**ElvisRules41: uh...you're welcome? And 'dlipping'? No, not at all. It's not even mine, really. Ever heard the quote 'best friends pick up on each other's habits'? Well, same thing applies to sayings.**

**4Love4Love4: The Marcus guy is from The Shifters, he's a lion in that story. Not in this one, cause that would be really weird... Just to tell you guys now, this is not important whatsoever, so, Nate is NOT the son of Pitch. That does not spoil anything, so stop giving me dagger eyes. And well, I guess I kinda answered your question in this chapter... Sorry about the really long wait again!**

**ThePotatoQueen: haha whaaaaaat? Pfft...no...okay, maybe.**

**ATA: wait, who's Gabriel and Giddeon again? And yes, I love the Mortal Instruments series. Been a while since I've read them, though. And ship who, Katie and Nate? Well, I mean, ship away all you want, but, he's like, fifteen years older than her...**

**TheJelsaShippingDemigod: Glad SOMEONE got the reference! Lol, and you're welcome ;P**

**Jewelaria Rosha: ugh, I know how it goes. And that's good, thank you for finding time to update!**

**17headlines: no problem, and aww thank you! I will definitely remember that! Sorry if I message you at like, ten o'clock cause the time's a little off so yeah...**

**Macie: me too!**

**ElsaTheSnowQueen2: thank you! And sort of...it's complicated...**

**Wow, guys, lots of reviews! Thank you so much, I honestly didn't think this story would do so well on the popularity charts, but keep it up and I'm going to have to start skipping the short/unquestioning reviews like I had to do in TSOKH! Thanks again you guys and I am so, so, so sorry for the really long wait!**


	5. Parties, Yay

**Heey guys, I am really sorry. I was on the computer prewriting so many chapters that my parents made me take a break from the computer and I couldn't update for the longest time. Like, how long of a break do I need? I think a month is long enough! Oh well. What can you do? Alright, here's the next chapter. I'm on winter break so hopefully updates will pick back up. Hopefully. I don't have much faith and well, good for you if you do but seriously, I'm really sucking at updates so yeah...**

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><p>Jack was really worried about Elsa. He didn't know much about doctoral things, but he figured that Elsa should have been awake by now. He obviously cares for her and it didn't help that he was being held captive for...he didn't know, something. Maybe Pitch decided to become a terrorist once he fled from prison. It wouldn't surprise him.<p>

"Elsa," he crooned, wiping some dirt smudges off her face. She was peacefully sleeping, which was more than what he could say for himself. When he did get sleep he was always plagued by nightmares. The worst one yet was one where he woke up and found that Elsa had passed on quietly in her sleep, and he hadn't even heard it. That one had him in a cold sweat for hours, constantly checking on Elsa's welfare.

She sighed softly, as if she could hear him, she just couldn't wake up. Maybe she couldn't. And maybe she could hear everything that was going on. Perhaps it was better that she was unconscious. At the very least, he could get some soup in her system, but she couldn't survive like this forever. She already felt so frail.

Jack could care less about his broken arm (he was pretty sure that it was broken), and his voice had regained its composure, but he wanted Elsa awake. Which was rather selfish if he really thought about it. He just really didn't wasn't to be alone. If he was going to be in hell at the very least they could give him Elsa. Unfortunately, in a cruel twist of fate, he had Elsa, but she couldn't be further away.

Jack needed to get stronger. Maybe he could find a way out, some way to find something that showed him where he was, what was going on, how long it had been since the boat had gone down. That memory was still a little hazy, but he could remember working together with Elsa to find land on a rowboat. There was someone else on the rowboat with them, but the person was faceless, genderless, nameless, and mute. He couldn't remember for the life of him. Ironically, he could remember flashes of green, but he wasn't sure if that memory belonged to that particular one or another one from long ago. Perhaps both. fate has a funny way of repeating itself and never, ever leaving him and Elsa the hell alone.

"If this is your idea of a joke, it's not funny," he whispered in Elsa's ear. He wasn't really talking to Elsa. He was talking to fate...if fate had a face, and ears. Oh God, maybe he was going crazy. An image of him, raging mad and wild-eyed popped into mind. It wasn't the most glorious sight. He groaned. He had to keep it together. At least until Elsa awoke. Then, they could go mad together. (That was a joke...laugh.)

He then sighed. He missed everything about his life. He missed waking up to Elsa and his daughter and his home and his friends and, well, everything. He wanted back the times when he could tease Elsa and have fun. He had to be serious now, and it was not suiting him too well. He felt absolutely helpless and completely out of his zone. Which he was, but that was beside the point. Whatever was happening was bigger than him. Bigger than getting kidnapped- although, that hadn't been a high point in his life, either- and he could honestly say that he didn't know what to do.

It seemed like some emotion that he couldn't quite name was eating away at him. Gnawing on his very soul and relentlessly eating him alive. That was a very dark and unamusing example, but it was about right.

Pitch was not only alive, but still viciously evil and irritably in charge. He didn't know where he was, or if he was even in a range where people could help him. For all he knew, everyone thought he was dead. But that was ridiculous. Surely someone was out there looking for him. He could feel it, he wasn't alone. Not yet, anyhow. He needed to gain his strength, make sure that he was well enough to care for the both of them, maybe even tend to his broken arm. That might be important. He wanted to know what was going on, really badly.

But what he wanted most was for Elsa to be awake and well. For now, he'd focus on that. He convinced himself that that's all that's really important at this moment in time, and that's what his main focal point would turn to. Get Elsa awake. Then he'd worry about all the other things that needed to be worried about.

Because, really, the only thing he could do at this point was cling to the fact that surely _someone _was out there looking for him.

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><p>Luckily, there was someone out there looking for him, but she just didn't know how to go about it. Even if she didn't feel alone, in actuality, she sort of was. No one else believed her and she couldn't operate a rescue mission on her own. Not like she was about to anytime soon but she wasn't about to give up, either.<p>

School had started only weeks before, and her classes were plenty to keep her busy. Grace often sat with Cypress and Ben (who were not, unfortunately or fortunately, she wasn't quite sure yet, dating) during lunch, finding plenty to talk about. Sometimes she would catch Marcus's gaze in the hallways or in history, but she would always blush and look the other way. If she was any more obvious she was sure that someone would catch on. She didn't quite have a crush on him yet. She couldn't say that, she barely even knew him, but from what she knew of him, there was plenty to like.

She hated thinking that way, but it was true. He was funny, outgoing, smart, kind, and optimistic about most things. But, again, she didn't know him all that well and she figured that she didn't have the right yet to develop...something...for him. Ugh, she hated teenage emotions. There was no point to them! Why, oh why, couldn't people be born adults? Again, if that were legitimately possible, she would definitely take up that option.

Today, Grace was just packing up her violin from her private lesson at the end of the day when Cypress leaped into the room, startling her.

"Grace!"

"Whoa!" Grace shouted, nearly dropping her beloved instrument. The bow, however, was another story and landed on her foot. It didn't really hurt but the thing was quite long and tedious to drop anyway.

"Oops, sorry," Cypress really didn't sound all that sorry, but Grace didn't mind too much. She enjoyed the other girl's company. Plus, it was nice that she had a connection to her parents beforehand.

"That's fine, you just startled me," Grace told her, smiling. "What's up?"

"So, there's this party tonight. It's in the other dorms, you know, on the other side?"

"Cypress, there was only two dorm buildings, I know which one is which."

"Anyways, party tonight, come on, please come?"

"Alright, sure," Grace stood, wiping her hands on her skirt.

Cypress blinked. "That was surprisingly easy."

"Well, sure, why not? I mean, I've never been to a party before," she shrugged. She might be shy but that didn't mean that she was unwilling to try something new.

"Okay then," Cypress grinned. "Dress nice, and oh, if anyone offers you a drink, don't take it."

Grace was a little taken back, but she nodded. "Okay, I'm almost done here. Do you want to go do something afterwards? We can txt Ben and see what he's up to."

"Nah, he's probably in the gym and I just came from there. We can go get an ice cream or something. There's this awesome place just in town that everyone goes to," Cypress suggested.

"Okay, sounds good." Grace said. It wasn't very often that she went out for ice cream and it sounded fun. Besides, when was the last time she went to an ice cream parlor? If that was even what one called it...

"So, are we going to go or are we gonna stand here all day?" Cypress asked. Grace realized that she was, in fact, just standing there, holding her violin case in front of her.

"Oh, right. I'll go drop this off and we can change," Grace said, walking out the door, Cypress following her.

In the corner of her eye, something caught her attention. In Practice Room 7, the one that she couldn't go in but really wanted to, was Nate Lightwood. The very same one who drove her into Practice Room 5 and irked her for some odd reason in the five minute conversation they shared. Not even that. He just struck a nerve with her and she didn't rightly know why.

She must have paused, because Cypress followed her gaze and rolled her eyes. She snapped her fingers in front of her eyes, once again startling her.

Grace jumped at the sudden sound.

"Come on, girl, snap out of it. I thought I told you he was no good."

Grace immediately blushed and turned away. "I do _not _have a crush on Nate Lightwood!"

"Then why are you staring at him?" Cypress raised her eyebrows teasingly.

Grace shrugged. "I don't know. He talked to me a little bit a couple weeks ago and just...I don't know, got on my nerves. There's just this weird feeling I get. I don't like it."

"Well, as long as it's not a crush, whatever. Feel weird as much as you like."

"Thanks," Grace muttered dryly.

The two then walked away, without noticing that the white haired boy in the practice room had stopped playing to listen to their conversation.

* * *

><p>It's not like Nate Lightwood really <em>cared <em>if Grace didn't like him, that wasn't the point of going to this school at all. A certain someone might disagree and tell him that he needed to get on her good side, but Nate didn't _do _good sides. It was either work with him or not. Granted, _they _were different, but that's because they were family. Besides the point, Nate didn't like to play good and bad sides.

Actually, that was a lie. He _loved _playing bad sides, and was alarmingly good at it. Who cared if he had enemies? He could protect himself and didn't need anyone else to help him. He was trained by the best and would only be here for a while. Besides, Grace wasn't the main focus. But she was connected to something that was. To be honest, it wasn't the main object of the mission that Nate was concerned about, it was something else. Nobody seemed to care about the other thing, but Nate did. He would make sure that everything went perfectly. Then, he could go back to being himself.

But goddammit he hated this freaking school!

Playing piano wasn't an exceptionally useful talent, but for some unknown reason, he'd had to learn how to play something. Piano seemed to be the best option. He guessed it did come in handy. But his age was best suited for this, and he needed to be flawless. Nothing could go wrong, or else it was game over.

Nate didn't mean to sound so melodramatic, but that's really how it was. It was kind of a life-or-death situation, but no one could know about it. Secrecy was a strong suit for him, so he didn't mind much. Heck, most of the things in his life were secrets, what were a few more? But when he said that no one could know, he really meant that no one could know. Drama seemed to come with the job. What the actual job was, well, he couldn't exactly say.

Or, if he did, he'd have to kill you.

* * *

><p>Now that Grace was adorned in her nice white jeans, tan ankle boots, and light blue blouse (what? So she wasn't so original with her coloration) and on her way to an actual party, she was beginning to think that maybe it wasn't such a good idea. Cypress had her hand on her arm practically pushing her along. Unlike Grace, she hadn't dressed up in anything nice, she was just in her usual dark but flattering clothes with her brown combat boots and her wavy hair pulled into two ponytails that still achingly reminded Grace of Anna.<p>

"I don't know, I mean, like I said, I've never been to a party before, maybe this isn't such a good idea," Grace tried spinning on her heel, but Cypress's grasp held and she spun her back around.

"Come on, you'll be fine. It's not like it's out of control or anything. And if it does, that's generally our cue to go. I may seem a little wild but I draw the line at anything that could potentially threaten my record."

"Well, that's a relief," Grace was only partially relieved. She was still a little unsure about the whole ordeal. It seemed like an okay idea when it was still a few hours away, but now that she was actually walking to it...well, it made her a little sick. Hey, maybe she could use that as an excuse-

At the glare Cypress gave her, as if she could read Grace's mind, she decides against it. Why did Cypress have to be so smart?

Grace sighed in defeat, trudging on. She could almost feel Cypress's satisfaction.

"Cypress DunBroch, I swear, one day, I am going to get you back for this," Grace muttered under her breath.

"And I shall tremble in fear when that day comes," Cypress replied sarcastically.

"So, are we meeting Ben here?" Grace asked, changing the topic only because Cypress was probably right to be unconcerned about her petty little threat.

"Um...I think so. I told where to meet but he didn't exactly respond."

"What? You mean I'm gonna be stuck with you all night?" Grace gasped in mock bewilderment.

"Oh, shut up Frost," Cypress laughed. Grace cringed a little. She hadn't really noticed just how much her last name was the same as her parents' last names. She still desperately missed them. They still weighed heavily on her mind for the most of her days and that wasn't about to change.

Grace wasn't entirely sure why BPAA allowed parties on certain nights of the weekend but she figured that everyone needed some time to relax. Sure, she had studying to do, but she could use a break, too. She just wasn't certain that a party was the most suitable offer. What if it did get out of hand and they couldn't get out? What if someone brought an inappropriate drink and Grace happened to take one not knowing? What if she completely couldn't remember what happened? What if...

Grace wasn't very good at blabbering, so she didn't try too hard after that little outburst.

Cypress happily greeted a group of people she knew, dragging Grace along and introducing the red-faced girl to everyone. Luckily, everyone was kind enough, but she mainly tried to keep her eyes on the ground. Loud music blared through speakers, traveling its way from the ground and straight into Grace's bones. Who really listened to music this loud? The lights were turned down low and seemed to flash every now and then, which, she wouldn't be surprised if they did.

Fortunately, Cypress didn't make Grace dance, as she didn't know how to and plus, Cypress wasn't one to dance anyways. She wasn't sure what the girl's definition of 'out of control' was, but this would be Grace's, and it barely seemed to have started. The lights were beginning to give her a headache, in all honesty, and she made a mental note to never ever go to a party ever again.

"Hey Cypress," Grace tugged on the girl's sleeve. "I'm gonna go get a drink, okay?"

"Mm 'kay, only take the canned stuff you recognize!" she shouted back. Which, shouting was very much necessary, with the music as loud as it was.

Grace weaved her way through the growing crowd, ignoring a couple stares and even an invitation to dance. Once she was in what she thought was the kitchen, she realized that she didn't even know where the beverages were.

"Looking for something?"

Grace heard Marcus's voice behind her, and she turned around. A boy who resembled Marcus tremendously stood before her. He had the same golden, brown hair, the same tanned, angled features, the same impossibly golden eyes. But this boy was certainly not Marcus. He was too old.

"Um, no, thank you, I'm fine," Grace responded, blushing and looking down.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"No," Grace immediately said. She must have said it a little forcefully because the boy who looked like Marcus chuckled.

"Grace, hey," someone said from the doorway, a little surprised.

Grace directed her gaze to who had spoken. She found the real Marcus standing in the doorway with a Dr. Pepper in one hand. Like his voice, he looked a little surprised to see her there. All the same, she was grateful for a familiar face.

"Oh, um, hi, Marcus," she stammered, cursing herself for blank spacing like that.

"Hey Grace," he greeted again. Suddenly, he seemed to snap out of the shock of the situation and gave her a friendly smile. He then turned to the older Marcus-look-alike. "Martin, leave sophomores alone."

The other boy- Martin (probably his brother, gosh Grace was smart)- grinned, wrapping his arm around Marcus's neck. He only looked slightly annoyed. "Oh, come on little brother, I have to have some fun." Martin laughed.

"Well, go have your fun out there," Marcus laughed alongside him and shoved him away. Martin gave him a salute with two fingers before backing out the door and into the sea of noise and people.

Marcus turned back to her. "Sorry about that."

"No, it's fine," she assured. "So, is that your brother?"

"Would you believe me if I said we just know each other and happen to look very similar?" he grimaced, but it was playful, in the way that siblings tease each other that Grace really wouldn't know about.

She laughed all the same. "Probably not."

"Well, as much as I'd like to say 'no', the resemblance is a little hard to ignore," he chuckled. It sounded the same as Martin. Or maybe, Marcus sounded like Martin... urgh, this was confusing.

"Well, I suppose it'd be nice to have a brother." Grace reasoned, hopping up to sit on the counter. She'd already been through all the reason on why it's a good thing that she's an only child already, though.

"Yeah. There are like, three more in my family. Plus an oldest sister. _That _must have been fun to deal with five younger brothers," he said, jumping up beside her and placing the can of soda down.

Somehow, Grace couldn't picture Marcus wrecking havoc among his house, whatever that looks like. He seems too sophisticated and just overall nice. She didn't know, looks could be deceiving. She knew that. But she did like Marcus, and wouldn't mind all that much if she got to know him better. She couldn't really say the same for Marcus, as she'd definitely made a fool of herself nearly every single time they'd talked. Which, in all honesty, wasn't all that much, but still.

"So, what are you doing here?" Marcus asked, probably referring to why he sounded surprised to see her here.

Grace shrugged. "It sounded like a good idea. I don't know, I've never been to a party before, might as well see what it's about." She didn't want to admit that perhaps it wasn't such a good idea and that she wouldn't be too willing to return to one.

"I don't know, you don't seem like the one to want to party," he remarked, swiping his hair out of his eyes. Grace mentally scolded herself at how much it made him seem more attractive. No, homeschooling and being alone was definitely _not _a good idea to suddenly jump into school.

"You don't either," she fired back. Even though he was right, she didn't want to appear like she couldn't handle herself. Which she could just fine, thank you very much.

He laughed lowly again at that. "No, I'm really not. This is Martin's party and he pretty much blackmailed me into coming."

"Blackmailed? Why would he want his little brother to come?" she asked. While she didn't know much about siblings, she certainly knew that they didn't tend to want them at their parties.

Marcus shrugged, looking down. Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute, was he actually _blushing? _No, that couldn't be. Grace wouldn't ever think Marcus would be embarrassed about something. And yet, there was undeniably a red tinge to his cheeks. She decided to spare them both and not comment on it.

"Well, mostly so most of the sophomores would come. Status and all," he almost spat the last part out. Like he almost resented being so popular and well known. Grace really didn't understand this boy. Very, very, very, confusing. And yet, straightforward and easygoing at the same time...yes, very, very, very confusing.

"Ah. Yes, because everyone wants to go to the party that Marcus...ah, sorry, I forgot your last name..." Grace completely ruined her fake fangirling over him. He still laughed, though, so the point got through.

"Whitman," he supplied afterwards.

"Right," Grace nodded as if it had been on the tip of her tongue (which it actually hadn't).

"But yes. What are you doing here?"

"I thought I already said...?"

"Well, obviously, you changed her mind at the last minute, yet you're here. Why, exactly?"

"Oh. Cypress dragged me here. We were going to meet Ben and stuff. It sounded like a better idea about four hours ago." Grace cringed.

"Well, everything does, right?" he smiled. "Although, I'm glad you came. At least one more person who was reluctantly dragged here."

Grace tried not to blush (_again_) when he said that and smiled back. "Thanks. Glad to see you here...too."

Wow, could she be any more awkward? Why was she so inexperienced with talking to people? This was so stupid, could she just go hide in her dorm and do something normal? Oh, wait, she was doing something normal. Well, normal's overrated anyway, she'd rather be studying. No, scratch that, she'd rather be playing.

Grace felt like she could relax a bit talking to Marcus, which was weird. She never felt this at ease. She couldn't quite sure whether she liked it or not. I'm So Confused by Justin Timberlake came to mind, and she would have agreed had it not been a love song. So she diminished it from her mind and tried again. How about I Can't Explain by The Who? Erase the second line in the chorus and it works. Alright, she'd go with that.

When Grace glanced down at her phone, she realized that she had been talking to Marcus for at least thirty minutes.

"Oh, shoot!" Grace said, jumping down.

"You alright?" Marcus got down, too.

"Yeah, just, Cypress is probably looking for me. I'm really sorry, it was nice talking to you," Grace told him sincerely.

"Yeah, you too," Marcus smiled. She decided that she liked him. He could give compliments and not make it seem like he was flirting, making him sincere and kind. It was like talking t a fairytale with him, he made her forget...

Oh goodness. Not once during that conversation had she thought of her parents! That should be a good thing, but Grace didn't want to forget. She wanted to be haunted by them forever. She wanted their shadows looming above her because it would mean that they were still there. She knew that they were but she just wanted to be sure. They weren't dead but she had no way to reach them. She didn't want to forget. But she had. If only for a time being, she had forgotten. It had been nice, but how could she be here, happy, when terrible things were happening? Happiness and sadness were two emotions that did not belong together. Marcus just seemed to make sense to her, but sense the place where her parents died on a sinking boat with no survivors. It made sense that they died. It didn't make sense that Grace knew that they were alive somewhere, but she did, so she belonged where things didn't make sense. Besides, Marcus was way out of her league. (She meant being friends, that is. Heck, more like just being in the same breathing space.)

But, then again, it had felt right for the world to make sense again...but she couldn't forget. Her parents were her world, and she belonged with them. She loved them and she would never, ever give up on them. That was a promise.

She shook her head, twisting her promise ring around on her finger and keeping her head down as she left to go find Cypress. She wouldn't worry about Marcus. It would be better for everyone if they just forgot the nice conversation they had shared. It wasn't like it would even matter in weeks to come.

* * *

><p><strong>So yeah... I'm sorry guys, I know my writing is terrible. I'm kind of not really trying anymore, simply because I love this idea, but I can't seem to write well with it. My writing skills and ideas just clash and do not do well with this story. But, I will keep going. Thanks for sticking with me! I'll try to have another chapter by the end of December.<strong>

**Falcon88: Meh, that's fine. And I don't know, your computer. But yes, I want to see that movie! It looks so good! Seriously, though, we're gonna hear Jack sing! Lol, I can't get over it... And no, it's because she can't see Chris Pine in a musical. And I have finally figured out things about the time skip, but you'll have to keep reading to understand it. Like I said, not much going on with Jack because, well, he can't really do anything. I'll try to give more on him next chapter. I don't know, he was just really annoying. Yes, writing...I just...have nothing. And no, dlipping was very much not a typo. Weird made-up words, okay? And oooh, that makes much more sense...**

**ThePotatoQueen: Haha, I agree with you. While I found him incredibly annoying to write, he's also kind of fun to think up of. He got a little voice in this chapter. And thank you so much, that means a lot to me!**

**4Love4Love4: yeah, kind of predicatble...but oh well. Thanks, even though I completely failed on 'soon'!**

**17headlines: well thank you! Even though...yeah... Never mind. Okay, just to say this: Elsa will NOT die! How cruel do you think I am? Haha, don't answer that... And lol, seriously, though, if your brother is anything like Nate (just the character, not the story role) I have planned in my head right now, he's gonna have the best love story ever! Thanks again for supporting me and my really faint story!**

**ElvisRules41: yeah...thank friends for that. I'm trying to convince her to get a Fanfiction account so who knows? Maybe she'll actually listen to me and start writing :) And lol, that's hilarious. We were doing a chemistry thing in science so I started to speaking to my one friend in periodic table of elements and she was just like 'what the heck are you saying?!' (by the way, Falcon88, if you're reading this, this is the same friend who believed me when I said that Abraham Lincoln was the first president).**

**CherryChocoholic: lol, totally. Nobody in my family gets me *tear* Mainly on why I can spend four hours on the computer with no breaks. It certainly does not help my eyes but whatever. Good vision's overrated, guys. **

**ATA: oohh...yeah, I didn't read the prequel. But about my writing, well, that makes one of us, heheh... But thank you, I really appreciate it!**

**TheJelsaShippingDemigod: lol, welcome back... *one month later***

**Jewelaria Rosha: haha, thanks. But hey, at least Grace is too busy sorting out the confused feelings I'm giving her to pry into your life.**

**Grace; but wait, what about...who am I talking about again?**

**So, thanks a lot for reading this, I'm not even gonna ask anyone to review simply because I suck at updating. (But if you want to I'm not going to object). Merry Christmas! Sorry for the long A/N...**


	6. Waves

Grace hadn't yet been to the library, and she was quite eager to see it. As an only child growing up with her parents as her best friends, reading had been a major blessing in disguise. Her books took her away from her home and into a whole new world. One where she could see everything through a hero's eyes. It was a nice change in scenery and Grace hadn't had all that much time to read lately.

The library was always a comforting smell. With Elsa as her mother, books smelled like home. Grace had inherited her mother's love of knowledge and reading, never finding schoolwork particularly difficult. Math was a strong suit of hers, geometry in specific. Unfortunately, she had graduated from geometry with the Bjorgmans, and was now in Algebra 2. Most people prefer algebra or geometry over the other and Grace was no exception. Luckily, she wasn't here for school, she was simply here for the books. A new one with a crisp red cover caught her eye, and she grabbed it from the shelf and settled down at a table by herself to read about it.

The door opened and shut behind her, but she was already busy reading. The book was entitled Invisible, by James Patterson and David Ellis. She wasn't familiar with David Ellis but she did recall James Patterson's name. From the sounds of it, this was more of an adult realistic fiction, but it captured her interest all the same. The prospect of dozens of unsolved potential murders drew her in. Right into the first five pages, Grace could connect with the main protagonist and heroine, Emmy Dockery. Bad dreams of the same thing over and over, plus the loss of her close family member. She could practically be reading her life story.

"Oh, hi Grace," someone behind her said, and she jumped, accidentally dropping the book.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't-" she cut herself off as she realized that it was Marcus staring down at her. She gulped, flushing red, and tucked a stray hair out of her face. "Um, hi Marcus. W-what are you doing here?"

He gave a small grin and held up the novel. "Assigned book in my English class."

"Oh, fun. What book?"

"Pride and Prejudices, I believe," he read off.

"Oh, I love that book," she announced, bending down to grab her book and flatten out the pages.

"You've actually read it before?" he said, slightly astonished.

Grace blushed once again. "Well, homeschooling left me with a lot of free time..."

He laughed. "I can actually see that. What book are you reading?"

Grace was a little suspicious in his sudden spark of interest in her, yet all the same slightly flattered. "Invisible by James Patterson and David Ellis," she recited.

"Oh, James Patterson has some good books."

"So I've heard," she said.

"Wait, you've never read anything by James Patterson?" Marcus gasped, shocked.

"Um...no?" it came out as more of a question that she had meant.

"Have you ever read anything like it?"

"I don't think so," she said.

"So, this might not be relative, but you've read The Hunger Games, right?"

"..."

"Are you serious?" he exclaimed, causing the librarian to shush them. They called out apologies while silently laughing.

"In my defense, I did see the movies," Grace whispered with a smile. Marcus pulled out and chair and sat down, somehow managing to look completely nonchalant. She gave him a funny look but he must not have seen it.

Grace didn't want to be rude, but surely someone like Marcus had better things to be doing than sitting here studying with her, right? "Um," she cleared her throat rather awkwardly. "Don't you have, I don't know, somewhere..."

'Better' was the word she was searching for, but she didn't want to come out and say it. She actually liked Marcus's company but Grace was anything but selfish. If he felt obligated to sit here with her, she didn't want him to.

"Better to be?" Marcus surprised her by finishing her sentence.

She blinked. "Um, yeah, kind of. I mean, you can stay if you want to, but, you know, it seems like you'd have, I don't know..."

Hmm, maybe Grace was a rambler after all. She didn't think her parents were ramblers, but her mother had been quite shy in high school she had heard. Some confidence might have been hers had she not lost, well, you know, but she'd much rather be shy and recluse. It was safer.

"No. Besides, I need to study. I was going to go back to my dorm, but, my roommate's not really one for silence."

She nodded. "Okay, then."

A small silence followed afterwards. Grace tried to keep reading but she never turned the page, and she hoped he didn't notice.

"So," Marcus said, breaking the silence. "Come here often?"

Grace snorted in amusement, immediately glancing over at the librarian. She was sending them daggers but she didn't say anything. She turned back to Marcus.

"Every Tuesdays and Thursdays," she told him, although it was a lie. This was the first time she had been here.

"Really, what a coincidence. Me too," he smiled at her, winking slightly. Grace furrowed her eyebrows at him but was quietly laughing all the same. It was obvious that Marcus didn't really come here every Tuesdays and Thursdays because Grace hadn't either, and he would have seen her even if he what he claimed was true. Somehow, Grace didn't see Marcus coming here very often. Wait a minute...did that mean that he was basically asking her if they could meet here again on those days? Certainly not, why would he do that?

Shortly following Grace's confusion, Marcus pulled out a highlighter from a backpack that Grace hadn't noticed before now. The neon yellow marker was soon highlighting important parts from a worksheet as he read through the first few pages of the novel, and Grace went back to her book, secretly sneaking glances at him over the top of Invisible every now and then.

(Only once did she get caught, but only because Marcus was looking at her, too.)

Marcus had a decent amount of pages read through and annotated before he looked up at the clock.

"It's three, I better get going," he said.

Grace looked up. "Wow, is it really that late?"

She had gotten to the library at one. It hardly seemed plausible that she had been there for two hours. And yet, the clock didn't lie.

"Me, too," Grace said. "I'm supposed to meet Cypress and Ben out front soon."

They walked out together. Grace found it a little alarming that she had to look almost directly up at him when standing side by side. Marcus kindly held the door open for her and she blushed as she thanked him.

"So," he smiled. "See you Tuesday?"

"Oh, um, sure," Grace said, a little confused as to why he had such an exact day to meet again. Oh, right...

As he left, Grace watched him go for a moment, pondering on whether he was simply pitying her or if he actually enjoyed her company.

"By the way," he called to her without looking back. "For someone who only goes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I'd suggest knowing the days of the week."

_What? _Grace pulled out her phone, looking at the date. It was Saturday. A newly learned swear word from her oh-so-innocent best friend came to mind. Of course he had to notice. She gaped at him for a second.

Grace then spun on her heel and stalked away. And if Marcus turned back to around to watch her leave, if only for a second, she wouldn't know because she was already gone.

* * *

><p>"Why hello, Grace, fancy meeting you here," Marcus slid into a seat beside her at the library. Grace had spent the past few days heavily debating on whether or not to go. She had asked Cypress, but her lack in boyish demeanor didn't help too much. All she suggested was the clever 'don't get hurt.' Grace knew that, both her mind and heart were locked bars of steel, and she wasn't about to free them anytime soon.<p>

"Hi, Marcus," she said nervously, fingering her textbook. She had decided to study instead of bringing Invisible. It wasn't that the book was bad, far from it, actually. But when Grace got hooked into a book she generally ignored all other needs, and she had lots of homework and practice times she needed to get done, so she was forced to pace herself. She loved the world that Invisible created. It left her with chills in the night at the thought of what could actually happen in real life.

"So, what are you studying?"

"Algebra 2," she sighed, dropping her pencil and brushing her bangs away. Her uniform was slightly ruffled as she had yet to wash her spare. Marcus's uniform was perfectly crisp and clean, which Grace could expect nothing less.

"Fun," he says sympathetically.

"Yeah, totally. What about you?" she asked.

"More English," he gave a twisted smile, dropping Pride and Prejudices on the table and wincing when it emitted a loud _bang! _"Whoops," he grinned goofily.

Grace laughed, eyeing the librarian. She made a shushing gesture with a red hot glare before returning to whatever it was she was doing before.

"I think we better study," Grace whispered. "Or else we might get kicked out."

"She can't kick us out...can she?" Marcus asked, unsure. Grace wasn't entirely sure herself, either, but she dismissed it by going back to her textbook.

The next Thursday, Grace had Invisible, all efforts of putting it off down the drain. She had only allowed herself to read for one hour in the past couple days, but her homework would have to be off until late tonight because she was _going _to finish it. She just had to know who this Graham was and how everything turned out.

Marcus silently slid in to the seat across from her, and she passed him a smile before going back to reading. They sat in silence that day, but neither seemed to mind. Grace resolved to losing herself in the world of Invisible, hardly believing the similarities she could find between herself and the tragic heroine who believed in something that no one else did.

* * *

><p>He was losing it.<p>

He tried to deny it, he tried to fight it, he tried and tried and tried and tried but it wasn't enough. Jack Frost was officially going mad. It wasn't something he was accustomed to, as he always considered himself level headed in dire situations, but without anyone to talk to or keep him going, he couldn't stand it. And it's not that Elsa wasn't enough, but she simply wasn't there. He tried to tell himself that she was enough, but the truth was he was just lonely and he didn't know what was going on or where he was or how he could escape. Pitch Black was holding him captive, he knew that much. He got food three times a day (he thought, as he wasn't sure since it was all pitch black...no pun intended) but never got to see the light. That was what he knew, but everything else was hazy and he wasn't sure of anything. For all he knew he was in a mental asylum somewhere, tricking his mind into believing that he was here as a prisoner.

But, no. That couldn't be right. Elsa needed him. She might not be _here, _but she was still here. Just because she wasn't awake didn't change the fact that she still needed him. Jack knew that, which was why he didn't completely give in to his desires. There were no voices, but he almost wished there were. At least he wouldn't be alone. To be honest, he was plain and simply scared. How could he ever get home, and if he did, how long had he been gone already? Pitch surely couldn't be planning to keep them here their whole lives, could he? _Could he?_

It was Pitch Black, of course he could. Add that to the list of many things that scared Jack.

He was just so unsure of himself. Of his life, of his sanity. Of everything. Now, he was also scared that he wouldn't be able to adapt if he got back home. Wait, wait, wait, what was with the 'if'? It should be 'when' because he was going home. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow (or, whenever it was), maybe it wouldn't be for a really, really long time, but he would make it. Him and Elsa against the world. And then, when they got back, they could find Grace again.

Yes, he decided. He couldn't lose it quite yet. His sanity was a very touchy thing, and he couldn't mess with it too much. He'd need it for later, as well as his strength. Elsa would need her strength as well for when she awoke because he swore on his grave that he would make sure she _would_ wake. He couldn't live without her, and he refused to. He needed Elsa. He only hoped she needed him, too. But Elsa was strong, stronger than him. She'd probably be doing so much better than him if their roles were reversed.

The silence stretched on, and he felt heavily obligated to fill it with something, anything. Elsa was so peaceful, he could almost imagine that she was sleeping and would wake at any moment. Jack back himself until he felt the solid mass of a wall, drawing Elsa close to him.

Because he went to BPAA for four years straight, and because he simply no longer cared, he stroked Elsa's hair lovingly, closed his eyes, and started to softly sing. His voice was terribly dry but he didn't sing too loud.

_My face above the water_

_My feet can't touch the ground_

_Touch the ground, and it feels like_

_I can see the sands on the horizon_

_Every time you are not around_

The song, compared to the original track, was so slow and almost haunting, reminding him of a song he once sang back in his junior year of high school. He couldn't even remember the title, but the tempo was about the same. Even though those lyrics were about standing on your own without his significant other, the song still seemed to fit his mood. He continued on, his soft lullaby to his unconscious love.

_I'm slowly drifting_

_Wave after wave, wave after wave_

_I'm slowly drifting_

Slow waves, unlike the ones that crushed the giant cruise ship and sank his hopes of ever being fine, rhythmic, comforting, and promising waves, slowly pulling him away from what he needed to do, what he needed to be. It was an awfully nice place they promised, and he was so, so lonely...

_And it feels like I'm drowning_

_Pulling against the stream_

_Pulling against the stream_

Would it be so bad to give in to it? To let go, even if for a moment? To just stop fighting altogether? The thing was, his grasp was so weak right now, and he didn't know how long he could last. If he did let go, paused to take a break, he didn't know if he'd be able or even willing to get it back. The thought of going somewhere beyond the physical realm with no certainty of returning frightened him. Oh, how he wished Elsa were here. What he wouldn't give for her to be here to hear his awful singing to a hauntingly slow lullaby.

_I wish I could make it easy_

_Easy to love me, love me_

_But still I reach_

_To find a way_

_I'm stuck here in between_

_I'm looking for the right words to say _

Caught between his reality and the real reality, he was unsure of what to do. Unsure of what really was right and what was not the same. Was there even a difference? He couldn't even tell anymore.

_I'm slowly drifting_

_Wave after wave, wave after wave_

_I'm slowly drifting_

_And it feels like I'm drowning_

_Pulling against the stream_

_Pulling against the stream_

Without all of the added instrumental pieces, the song was rather short, and Jack cut it off there. He would have to linger in the waves, resisting the temptation, just a little longer. If Elsa could only promise him that he need only hold on for just a little bit longer, he could do it. He had to. Somehow, he knew that certain things would depend on it.

Jack tugged Elsa's limp frame- so delicately fragile, so shockingly thin- onto his lap, hugging her head closely to his chest. He swore to her then that he would get them home. Somehow, some day, if it was the last thing he ever did.

In that point of time, for truth to be told, it probably would be.

* * *

><p>Elsa was breathing.<p>

Well, of course she was breathing, Jack would be a little alarmed if she wasn't, but she was breathing _irregularly_, which was different. It was always steady, with maybe a few fluttering heartbeats, but an easy going, relaxed pace. Now, her heart was racing like a jackrabbit, her breath ragged and very uneven. Elsa was breaking into a sweat, and Jack felt equal parts excited and nervous. What was going on? He made a mental note to become a doctor when he got back.

"Elsa," he murmured, leaning down right next to her ear. "Can you hear me?"

She responded by gasping for breath, her brow furrowing.

"That's it, Elsa," he coaxed. "You can do it. I'm here, you're not alone. Do you hear me? You're _not alone._"

He wasn't entirely sure who he was speaking to at this point, but something must have gotten through.

"Elsa, can you hear me? I love you, please, please be waking up and not dying. Please don't leave me. We're both in hell now, I'm not gonna lie, but please don't leave me." he pleaded, cupping her cheek lovingly. He tried to imagine his appearance. His eyes were surely bloodshot, his face dirty, his fingernails probably worse than Daniel Radcliffe's in the battle at the end of whatever movie Grace had dragged them to and wouldn't shut up about the actors. But he was here, and if Elsa was about to wake up, then he wasn't alone. He didn't want to be alone, he was afraid to be alone.

"Elsa," he breathed, savoring the taste of her name on his tongue. It was sweet, one he never got got tired of and never would. He leaned even further to hug her. He was unashamed for the tears that were streaking down his face. He was sure that anyone else in his situation would be doing the same and if they weren't, well, then, screw them. They weren't in his situation, and he was near the breaking point so they could take it up with a half starved, crazed man who was in danger of losing his life and all other life ahead of him.

He was so busy talking to Elsa that he didn't notice a distant door open and slam closed.

"Aw, the Snow Queen's finally waking, is she?" Pitch Black's ugly voice sliced through the quiet silence, an unwelcome intruder to the stagnant air around Jack.

"Leave us alone," Jack spat, calling Pitch a name he wouldn't want Grace to ever hear but couldn't do anything about her hearing anyway.

"Uh huh," Pitch said, bored. How could he even see in this darkness? "Well, as much as I'd like to stay here and listen to you call me petty names, I have food to deliver. You can starve to death, but I'd much rather watch you suffer for a bit longer. I always assumed you were stronger. I'm rather disappointed in you, _Frost._"

"Why the hate?" he asked, his tone mocking. "Seriously, what did I ever do to you? Why do you hate me so much to kidnap me a second time-"

"Oh, you're breaking my heart." Pitch then unceremoniously shoved the tray of food to Jack, and he scrambled for it. "Look what you've become. Pathetic."

"Bastard," Jack muttered under his breath as his footsteps rang around him and then slowly faded away. Whether or not Pitch heard wasn't the question, it was whether or not he cared. And by the sounds of it, he assumed that he definitely did not care.

Elsa sucked in a breath once more, dragging Jack's attention back to her. He discarded the food to the corner and stumbled back to er side.

"Elsa?" he asked. "Come on, you can do it. You're almost there...I think... Please, just wake up."

She was fighting the sleep, he knew it. She was so close, she could do it, he knew.

"Come on," he whispered. "You're so close."

When she stilled suddenly, quietly, Jack was frozen for a second. He waited. He counted to ten. Then twenty. Thirty, fourty... Nothing.

"Elsa?" he asked quietly. Then, a little louder, and a little more panicked, "Elsa?"

His hands were trembling as he checked her breathing, but he couldn't be sure. Was that air he felt of his fingers? Or was it nothing? He didn't know!

"Elsa?" he practically shouted. She didn't stir. No, she couldn't be. He had been fighting so hard, he had held on for so long.

She couldn't have let go. He didn't, she wasn't supposed to, either. She was supposed to wake in a dramatic arousing, reuniting with her husband where they would figure out a way to get back home to their daughter!

"Elsa, you- you can't. You have things left to do! Grace is waiting for us! It wasn't supposed to end like this, dammit!" he shouted, standing and kicking what he thought was the food. It was, and it made a satisfying echo throughout the cell. Tears flooded his eyes and he clutched at his hair, pulling as hard as he could. The pain brought more tears to his eyes but it felt better than the pain Elsa had brought. He choked out a sob, allowing it to rack through his entire body.

There's something not right about seeing a man cry. It's not trying to be sexist, but when a man cries, you know something is utterly wrong. Men tend to save their tears like Elsa had, but she had learned to let go. To be strong is to admit your weaknesses, and Jack had a hell of a lot right now.

"No, no, no, no, no," he moaned over and over, squeezing his eyes shut as hard as he could. Only a few tears made up the rivulets that were flowing down, as if his body was too in shock to even produce a decent amount of tears. This was not right. He was supposed to take care of her, he promised her!

His world was crashing down on him. That was it, he couldn't do it any longer. He couldn't be alone. He thought that Elsa being unconscious wasn't enough but this, _this _wasn't enough. He needed her, and would take her back. If she were in a coma for the rest of her life, he wouldn't care, he just wanted her to not be...

She wasn't. Impossible. She wasn't, he couldn't think it. He wouldn't accept it. He refused!

Because Jack's world had lost all light- both figuratively and literally, he didn't know that Elsa's crystal blue eyes opened to the darkness. Because he was so aghast in his pain, he didn't notice her ever so slowly crawl over to where he was crouching and hugging his knees for some meager support. And because he was so numb in his grief, he didn't feel her thin fingers grasp his shoulders comfortingly.

But he wasn't so lost, aghast, or numb to hear her voice call out in a horse whisper, "Jack."

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, well, I'm actually satisfied with Jack and Elsa's part right now...huh. But thank you all so much. You guys just gave me another boost of inspiration. I have completely forgot the effect other readers can have on you, and it meant a lot to me. I hate to sound so cheesy right now, so I'll just move on. By the way, just so you all know, when I'm saying that my writing sucks, I'm not trying to dig for compliments, I swear. That's awesome if you think that it doesn't, but in my opinion, I can do better. But thank you for all the lovely thoughts sent my way.<strong>

**4Love4Love4: Gahhhhh...wait, how'd you get that conclusion? I'm not commenting, but just, you know, interested... And thanks so much! I updated as soon as I could and look! It's before the end of December, whoo hoo!**

**LeeLuLove: Well, too late for that, but again, I appreciate the gesture. Don't even worry about it! To answer your question, no, I have every intention to finish The Shifters, however it does surprise me slightly that people are still interested in it. All the same, an update is in the future for that story! Actually, The Shifters was supposed to be finished first, as a few things could be predicted in this story from the events of that story...**

**Guest: why thanks you! And I may or may not have an answer. ;) Lol, I can blame my 8th grade Honors English and Geometry teacher for that response... Anywho, for this one, I am choosing to remain silent. I know it does seem like that (a lot), but all will be explained. And yeah, he's supposed to be that way. Thanks for that on Grace, I'm having difficulty writing her. I think the problem is that she's turning out so much more girlier than I'm used to writing and it's really unfamiliar territory for me, as well as the loss because I have never experienced such tragedy as I have bestowed upon her. I guess I find it a bit hard to connect to. Hey, if anyone does have some first hand experience and doesn't mind talking about it, I'd love it if you could PM me with some inspiration. Only if you're comfortable though, because while I don't know close loss, I do understand some and yeah, it sucks. But other than that, go talk to a completely random stranger on the internet whom your parents probably warn you about, yay!**

**But wow, seriously, 2 requests to update The Shifters? I am severely surprised. It's a good thing, don't worry.**

**CherryChocoholic: Oh, totally. I have my reading glasses and ready for the night!**

**ElvisRules41: ...um...that wasn't my brightest hope for humanity, but it was pretty funny. Actually, she did. Just a few days ago. She's thinking of doing a fanfic of The Host and I can't wait to read it because she is an awesome writer! And hehe...uh, well, let's just say, I earned four extra points on my science test for winning some practice thing, and I got upset because I got 108/105. My friend says I'm paranoid (which I'm not!) but come on! That means I missed one and I studied so hard! I think I know which question it was, too. Darn tests. However, I like the elements a little too much at times, I think...**

**ElsaTheSnowQueen2: thank you!**

**ThePotatoQueen: okay, how did you come to this conclusion? Did I miss something? Yeah, probably. Oh well, I'll have to fix that later...**

**Enjoy your day, or night, or morning, or whatever! See you next update and thanks so much for your support! **


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